


Heroes to Villains

by peppydragon



Series: Fractured Crown [4]
Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dubious Morality, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Gore, Graphic Violence, Occasional fluff, Plot, Sexual Violence, Smut, Torture, Valduggery - Freeform, Violence, arbiter stuff, brief physical child abuse, major character deaths, part 4 of series, sleuthing, so much plot, some detective work, spoilers for books 1-11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppydragon/pseuds/peppydragon
Summary: Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain have had a rough go of the past year, but their fortunes shift when Valkyrie uncovers a piece of Abyssinia's plans. Valkyrie is willing to risk everything to fix her costly mistakes - even if that means ignoring pesky things like morality.| Part 4 of the Fractured Crown Series | AU - Canon Divergent | Spoilers/References for books 1-11 |





	1. See

**Author's Note:**

> [If you haven't read the first three stories in this series, please do so! You will be very, very lost if you don't. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320746)
> 
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> 
>  **SPOILER ALERT:** Somehow, pre-Bedlam's release, I managed to guess a few variations of Bedlam's plot. If you don't want some minor, barely-there guessed references to Bedlam, please wait to read this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One, in which Valkyrie and Skulduggery begin to resent their vacation and Alice gets a momentary upper-hand on Abyssinia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything! All characters and magical locations belong to Derek Landy.

* * *

 

Valkyrie has never been so sunburnt in her life; she decides this while staring forlornly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She wonders why she didn't ask Grouse for some ointments or _something;_ anyone with half a brain - and skin - should have realised that Jamaica is not the place for Irish girls without a parasol or magical protection. "Skulduggery," Valkyrie calls, "is there anything you can do to block the sun from me without...you know. Blocking me?"

"I cannot control UV rays, no," he says, coming to join her in front of the mirror. "As far as I am aware, no one can. Unless someone completely wasted their efforts to focus on something so useless."

"Not so useless for those of us with real skin," Valkyrie mumbles. She glances at him from the side, squinting her eyes at the slightly waxy flesh.

He raises a brow - he's gotten quite good at it, she has to admit - and asks, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I don't know," she hums, leaning her hip against the counter. "I guess it's just...been a while."

The brow raises higher. "Was my sort-of tongue inside someone else this morning?"

She snorts. "I _mean_ it's been a while since I saw _you_ -you."

"It's been three days, Valkyrie."

"Exactly."

"The facade matches the passport and Fletcher has never been here before. Besides, think of your virtue."

"My virtue?"

"Well of course. You can't have the other guests seeing a newly-wed woman on the arm of a different man every day."

She blinks. She knows she's focusing on the wrong thing, but she blurts, "Newly-wed?"

Skulduggery tilts his head at her, seemingly too perplexed for words.

"I mean, it's fine, it just...surprised me. I mean, it makes sense," Valkyrie adds, really wishing Skulduggery's facade would stop looking so damned gorgeous and emotionless. "We're young, good looking people with a dog. I'm sure we definitely look like...I mean, it makes sense. Honeymoon. Yeah, sorry, I'm-" and then she realises things are only getting worse, so she stops.

"You can say a lot of words in a very short period," Skulduggery informs her, smiling, and then leaning over to kiss her cheek. "You should see to that sunburn, by the way."

"I _am_ seeing to it," she mumbles, needlessly defensive but smiling nonetheless. "Maybe you should see to finding a way to block the sun from me without also blocking me; it would be a shame to deprive anyone of this body on the beach."

"While I agree that it would be a travesty to cover yourself from view, I have to reiterate - no one would waste their abilities on such an odd discipline."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes, and her fingers find the tiny facade tattoos China inked onto her collar bones. The artificial surface flows off of her, leaving her scarred and looking like herself. The sunburn, however, does not go away. "Too bad these mortals would lose their damn minds to see me walking around like this."

"You are gorgeous," Skulduggery agrees.

"I really am."

Skulduggery is silent for a moment before sighing, "I think now is one of those 'fitting opportunities' to ruin your ego a little."

"Please don't," Valkyrie groans, trying to prepare herself.

He waits before saying, "You fell off of a surfboard and then yelped when you thought a shark was going to eat you."

"It was a possibility!" she tries to defend herself. "Sharks mistake surfers for seals all the time."

"While I appreciate you studied about our vacation ahead of time-"

"Hardly; I did a book report on sharks in grade two."

"-I do not think any sharks of real significance can attack you in the shallows. Not to mention all of your thrashings - I doubt any preditor would be willing to go up against the human equivalent of a boat propeller."

It's not even an insult, but it hits Valkyrie like a fist. "Ouch," she whispers. "Oh, that did it. Consider me without ego."

"Hopefully not entirely."

"Oh God no. You'll never see me egoless. The world might cease spinning."

"I have made you into a monster," Skulduggery informs her.

"Hmm. You were on the straight and narrow before you got involved with me."

"I have _never_ been on the straight and narrow."

"Hmm," Valkyrie repeats and begins her task of slathering herself in aloe vera.

 

* * *

 

Alison Edgley likes the smell of the sea; she enjoys sitting on the terrace and listening to it. Sometimes it reminds her of home, of the pier near her house, the scent of Haggard. When it does, she wishes she could cry.

She can hear Abyssinia coming up behind her, stroking her wind-swept hair from her face. "You look pensive," she says.

Alice lets out a small breath. "Do you remember the first time you were scared? Really, truly scared?"

Abyssinia stands behind her, nails gently scraping her nape while she collects the long platinum hair. "I do," she murmurs, softly raking her fingers through the tresses, untangling them. "Do you?"

"When Sanguine held me down and tore my eyes out."

Abyssinia lets out a soft noise, something that's almost a chuckle, and she begins braiding Alice's hair. "I was a child," Abyssinia murmurs, "younger than you are now. I saw my family murdered, torn apart, almost like...almost as if they were parchment. I remember watching it, seeing it, _feeling_ it, but I couldn't hear anything."

"You could hear your heart. Your blood rushing through your ears."

Abyssinia's fingers stall, but then she continues. "Yes." She finishes with the braid but holds it aloft, almost as if she's studying it. Alice holds very still, sure that Abyssinia will tug it cruelly. She's never hurt Alice, but the fear is always there.

Alice tempts fate. "When did you change? When did you decide that ripping someone apart wasn't awful?"

"Oh darling," she chuckles, dropping the braid. Alice can feel it unravelling, her hair too fine and smooth to hold the shape unaided. "It never stopped being terrible. Or frightening. It still is, but now...now I appreciate it. I call to it because it is the only thing understandable in this world. Fear."

"Not power?"

"Power is the ultimate result of fear."

Abyssinia walks around the chair and kneels in front of Alice, taking her hands. Abyssinia is so cold, even in the warm air. "You are a child; you still haven't suffered enough to understand it. And, if I am honest, I hope you hang onto that foolish sense of innocence. Of virtuosity. I wanted that for Caisson, too, but...things always get in the way of our desires, do they not?"

Alice takes a small breath, lets it out, focuses herself. It's about to happen. She can't let Abyssinia take her by surprise.

"Have you seen anything yet, darling?"

"No," Alice lies; she's pleased that her voice doesn't fluctuate, that it doesn't give anything away.

"Should I use your true name? Should I test you?"

Alice shrugs. "It's not exactly my choice; I'm blind and stuck with you."

Abyssinia laughs. Her laugh is amazing, Alice has to admit. "You are such a delightful child," she praises for the millionth time. "Your parents did well."

"So did S -- Valkyrie."

"You're right - I suppose I should give her a nod, as well." Abyssinia's fingers brush across her temple, sweeping her hair back. Alice takes another steadying breath and relaxes. Abyssinia's hand tightens on her skull; Alice hisses under the force, but she keeps her eyes closed. When her focus begins to slip, she stabs the fleshy bits of her palms with her nails, each pinprick a little breath of cold air to her exhaustion.

Abyssinia is gentle enough when she goes through Alice's mind, but the sensation can never be a pleasant thing. Alice holds very still and focuses on one thing and one thing only.

An owl named Holly.

Alice holds very still and thinks about the owl her dad made up for bedtime stories. Her dad was never one to rely on traditional means of storytelling - his plots were either non-existent or too complicated to follow. But each of them was about an owl named Holly, and each of them made Alice smile.

Every Christmas, her dad tells another story about Holly, always accompanied by her adopted sister, a horse named Mopsey. Alice shifts her attention to that, focusing on her seventh Christmas, at the chaos that ensued after one such story.

 _I resent my representation as a horse,_ Stephanie said, pretending to be offended but biting down a grin.

 _It's because you're so damned tall and muscled!_ Desmond defended himself.

_Tanith is more muscled than me, and she gets to be a bloody lion!_

_That's because I'm fierce and have fantastic hair, isn't it?_ Tanith asked, sprawled on the couch, head on Stephanie's thigh. Stephanie's hand absently twirled through the mess of long, tousled hair.

 _It is!_ Desmond cried. _See - Tanith gets it. Tanith is a lion and Stephanie's a horse. Oh no, could you imagine the offspring between a horse and a lion?_

 _Dad!_ Stephanie snapped, horrified; Tanith was red-faced, as well, glancing between all of them.

_I'm not wrong! It'd be so fast and clawed and fanged and muscled. So muscled. Like a pit bull, but actually terrifying._

_Des,_ Melissa groaned, rubbing her face with her hands. _Get the tea on, please._

Abyssinia's hand is gone, and Alice's mind returns to its proper place, in the present, and she lets out a little breath. Moment of truth.

"I liked that one," Abyssinia says, a smile in her voice. "I hate that you still try to fight me, but I did appreciate that memory. I regret that I will probably end up killing all of them."

"I know," Alice says. "Everything you do, all of this...it's just a means to an end."

Abyssinia traces a line across Alice's jaw with a sharp nail. Alice is sure Abyssinia knows, and Alice prepares for pain. But it doesn't come. Abyssinia brushes an affectionate hand through Alice's hair. "Come in soon," she says. "We will go to dinner within the hour."

Alice nods, but Abyssinia is already breezing past. Alice waits for ten minutes before her shoulders relax, and she lets out a choked groan.

She's actually doing it - she's actually _hiding things_ from the bloody Princess of the Darklands.

It won't last long. Eventually, Abyssinia is going to question her with her true name. Eventually, Abyssinia will discover Alice's numerous deceptions - Alice is hoping it won't take that long for her to escape.

 

* * *

 

It's close to three in the afternoon when Valkyrie finally cracks. "In the spirit of transparency..."

"Yes?" Skulduggery asks from where he is sitting on the veranda, looking out over the beach. Xena sits at his side, panting and shedding in the heat, but wags her tail excitedly every time someone walks under their balcony. She isn't the best watchdog, Valkyrie is realising, but it doesn't even matter.

"...I love that we're doing this. I love that we're taking a few days to just...sit around." She comes to join them on the terrace, leaning against the intricate balustrade. "Doing nothing."

"I am sensing some discontent?"

"Yeah," she begins, nodding, unable to stop nodding. "I am so bored. I mean, it was fantastic for the first two days, but today I can't focus on anything except figuring out why the _hell_ Davina Marr keeps going out to that Aranmore Farm place."

"If we are going home early, can it be because of someone more interesting than Davina Marr?"

"No, see, it _is_ interesting. She's so boring that her fixating on a little farm seems dodgy, doesn't it? Suddenly she's going out to this weird plot of land with no significance three times a week? Why?"

"I think _you_ might be fixating."

"Oh, I _know_ I am fixating."

Skulduggery draws her over, and she goes to her tiptoes to manoeuvre around Xena's rapidly-growing body. She slides onto his lap. His hand brushes her leg a little too hard, and she winces, her sunburn flaring. He doesn't notice, doesn't even think to notice; she supposes she can forgive him, given that he's been without skin for centuries.

"You are in luck, then - I already made arrangements for us to go home tomorrow morning."

Valkyrie's eyes widen, and she pulls back a bit. "You did?"

"You took a yoga class this morning, Valkyrie. I knew the end was nigh."

She chuckles and kisses his cheek, sliding off of his lap with less grace than she hoped. "I'm off for a bath."

Skulduggery gives her the same curious look he gives her each time she slips off for a bath. "It is about that time."

Valkyrie turns on her heel and departs before he can stop her, before he can finally break down and ask her why. Why is she always slipping off for a bath in the afternoon? Why does she come out of it looking exhausted and sad? Why the same song looping over and over?

Valkyrie locks the door as quietly as she can while the bath fills with scalding water. She sets her phone up, looping the song, undresses, and gets into the water.

_Take me back to places I feel loved in_

It hurts. Few things hurt worse than immersing yourself in 49-degree water, entering without any care, without concern.

She closes her eyes; the steam is engulfing her face, and she breathes it in, placing her hands on the surface tension, focusing on one thing. Only one.

_Maybe failing that, take me to Boston_

Valkyrie breaths softly, careful not to disturb the vapour too much. She relaxes her shoulders and rolls her neck down to her chest. The song plays on, interrupting the sound of her breath.

_Strange that I'm not seeing you as often_

The surface tension shivers even though Valkyrie doesn't move. She furrows her brow and then remembers herself, focusing, focusing as hard as she can.

_Wandering round in cities I feel lost in_

And then it isn't just her breath in the faint pause between lyrics. Valkyrie slowly, so slowly, opens her eyes. There, colouring the mist, is her sister.

 _What if all the costs are even?_ Alice's flitting image mouths to the song, her lips quirking sadly.

 

* * *

 

Alice feels her across the way, close to the small road, somewhere in the silty dirt. She tilts her head toward the direction, toward the phantom hint of Stephanie's woodsy hair product. She slows her breathing, and then she can hear her. She can catch Stephanie's breath, the sharp inhalation, the song in the background.

Alice smiles sadly. She made Stephanie listen to this song once, years ago. Back when Tanith moved to London and Stephanie began disappearing from her mortal life. Alice hadn't understood it then, of course. She didn't know what happened, the heartbreak. She couldn't comprehend the pain, couldn't comprehend the self-loathing filling Stephanie then.

"What if all the costs are even," Alice says aloud, hoping Stephanie can hear her.

"What was that?" Abyssinia murmurs from across the table.

"A song I like. Used to like, I guess. No, still like." Alice wishes she could see her sister - she wishes she could touch her. She wiggles her little finger, a ritual she and Stephanie had when Alice was little. It didn't mean anything, exactly - or, Alice supposes, it means everything. It means _I'm sad. I miss you. I need you near._

Alice wants so much to sob when she feels Stephanie, when she hears the whisper of her voice. _Alice, where are you? Baby, tell me where you are. Please, Alice._

Alice lets out a heavy breath and turns her head uselessly, unable to see but trying to impress the surroundings on her sister - the smell of the Italian food, the loud music flowing from the restaurant Abyssinia likes and Alice is impartial toward. She hopes she can hear. She hopes she can see.

 _I miss you,_ she mouths into the warm night air.

She can't hear Stephanie anymore - not her murmurs, not her unshed, throat-clogging tears.

"Would you like the same tonight as last?" Abyssinia asks, obviously preoccupied with the menu enough that she missed the ten-second exchange.

"I'm not feeling well," Alice replies softly. God, she wants to cry.

"Soup, then."

Alice would point out that she doesn't even _like_ soup, but she bites it down. She gazes, sightless but still feeling her sister's phantom warmth from the shrubby surroundings, the silent road in the near distance.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery nearly bursts into action, sure something terrible has happened, when Valkyrie tears out of the bathroom. She's still naked and dripping water, her sunburn even darker from the hot bath.

"Valkyrie-"

"I saw Alice. She's trying to help us find her."

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The song referenced is "Boston" by Dermot Kennedy.](https://open.spotify.com/track/2irfTZTVmg370AmLGcdh0C?si=nUjPKFIaQJuNxxK10Ej9WQ)


	2. Gifts from China

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two, in which China helps Valkyrie and questions Skulduggery.

* * *

 

China Sorrows doesn't like to be kept waiting. She's a busy woman, yes, but a small, petty piece of herself - one that she keeps very deep, very hidden - cannot fathom what in the world would be more important than a direct summons from the Supreme Mage.

Valkyrie glances up at her from where she's seated on one of China's favourite chairs. China chooses not to ask her to move because Valkyrie is steely-eyed and tight-lipped.

Ten minutes pass and Valkyrie is pacing. "Is she off on holiday or something?"

China continues to stir her tea even though the sugar is well and truly dissolved, and the liquid is cooling more than China enjoys. She makes a turn of her spoon, the slow scrape of it echoing with each pivot Valkyrie makes in her path across the room.

"Can you not?" Valkyrie snaps, and then blanches. She closes her eyes - China can see her mentally counting down - before sinking back into the chair. "I'm sorry."

"Not at all, my dear," China murmurs, finally setting her spoon down on her saucer and sipping the tea. "She should be here momentarily. Try to relax - it's always easier if you're relaxed."

The poor dear tries, China has to give her that. She takes deep breaths and leans back into the cushion, eyes closed, lids flickering with their movements.

"Think about the scene," China says, careful not to make a sound when she returns her teacup to its saucer. "Think about what you saw - try to even it out." She deliberately gets out of her seat and moves to the door, cracking it slightly, glancing around the corridor.

Valkyrie has calmed, her hands finally unclenched around the chair arms. She breathes deeply, each one rattling something in her throat; she's trying not to cry, China realises, and her heart gives a sudden lurch. China scowls at herself and centres her mind, forcing the emotions deep, deep down.

Clipper Valentine rounds the corner, her gentle face further softening when she sees China. She steps close, whispering, "Is she ready?"

"She is as ready as I can make her," China offers with a nonchalant shrug, stepping aside and letting Clipper enter.

Valkyrie almost opens her eyes when Clipper leans down to take one of Valkyrie's lean hands in her plump pair. "Ms Cain? I'm Clipper Valentine. It's very nice to meet you."

Valkyrie's eyes remain shut, and her mouth is a straight line. "What do I need to do?"

"May I call you Valkyrie?"

"...Sure."

China reclaims her seat; she ignores the teacup and reaches for a slender notebook and pen. She glances back to the pair; Clipper's soft voice is soothing Valkyrie a little further into her memories. The Sensitive takes her place behind Valkyrie, fingertips brushing her temples.

"...focus only on the image, Valkyrie; only that image. If you think about anything else, anything at all - China's breath, or my hands, or what you had for breakfast - you will make it harder, less clear."

"It wasn't clear to begin with," Valkyrie mumbles, but she is beginning to lean her head back into Clipper's fingers.

"It's alright," Clipper assures her. "Just focus. It will be a little prickly when I enter, but try to ignore that if you can, alright?"

Clipper's fingers tighten at her temples, and Valkyrie lets out a surprised noise but quickly stills. China waits, and then Clipper is murmuring under her breath. "Is that Alice, love?"

"Yes," Valkyrie whispers.

"Good. Focus on her. Smooth out the edges...there. That's better, isn't it? And...she's with someone. Is that the woman who took her?"

"Yes."

Clipper goes quiet, fingers sliding a little further into Valkyrie's sable hair. "She's somewhere dark - somewhere at night, but there's a brightness behind her. Where she is staying, perhaps."

China's elegant script rolls across the notebook, but she falters when Clipper makes an odd noise in the back of her throat. China looks up, and Valkyrie is trembling.

"Go a little deeper, Valkyrie."

"I can't," Valkyrie says between clenched jaws. "I can't. That's...it was just in the steam. I couldn't see..."

Clipper removes her hands after a few more minutes of searching, but her brow furrows when she comes back to herself.

"What did you see?" China asks.

Clipper shakes her head a little. "Not much of consequence." Valkyrie tightens her jaw and Clipper soothes, "Perhaps next time you see her, look at your surroundings. Try to hear her."

"I tried to hear her," Valkyrie bites out, temper flaring. A slender shadow snakes out of the ring on her left hand, coiling around the missing tip. It doesn't lash out, but it does loop tighter and tighter, the pressure making Valkyrie's sunburnt finger turn white. "I'm not a Sensitive - I can't just _tap into_ things."

"Try," China interrupts, setting her pen and pad down. "Being upset isn't going to help anyone; especially not Alice."

Anger flashes across Valkyrie's face, but she bites her tongue and turns her gaze to the wall. "Thank you, Ms Valentine," she finally says. "I will try to see more if Alice can contact me again."

Clipper brushes her hand over Valkyrie's shoulder; the younger woman flinches, but Clipper doesn't take offence. "Good luck, love."

Valkyrie says nothing. She waits to sag into the chair until Clipper slips out; she looks exhausted. "That shit hurts," she mumbles, and China smiles faintly.

"It is worth it sometimes." She drinks her tea - too damn cold, but she abhors wasting good tea - and then gets to her feet, brushing down her sharp blazer. "Give me a moment; I have something for you."

China passes through into her bedroom and collects a charm she made for Valkyrie when she called about her visit with Alice. It's a thin band, dark as pitch with a slender inlay of lapis lazuli. Minuscule sigils cover the inside. She also retrieves the Dream Whisperer that Skulduggery and Fletcher brought her months back.

She finds Valkyrie pouring herself tea when she returns. The younger sorcerer gulps the liquid down, wincing a bit at the strong aftertaste, and raises her eyes to China. "Where did you get this tea?"

"An old acquaintance in Thailand; he hand-shreds his own leaves," she shrugs as if it's nothing. "These are for you."

Valkyrie takes the ring and raises a brow. She accepts the Dream Whisperer and frowns. "Creepy."

"I have only known one Sensitive who uses them, but Whisperers work for anyone. It murmurs your dreams back to you. Perhaps there is something you can discover through this?"

"And the ring?"

China hesitates. She sticks as close to the truth as she can. "It loops your powers."

"Loops?"

China keeps her smile soft and calm. She thinks of herself as a tranquil lake, untroubled. "It helps you with bursts of power when you need them. That should extend to your visions."

"I'm not a Sensitive."

"I have a theory."

"And?" Valkyrie is getting perturbed again.

China picks her words very carefully. "Darquesse was able to sift through Natalia Kimber's mind, and Alice isn't strong enough to do this on her own. I am beginning to suspect that Alice might be feeding off of Darquesse's power when she tries to connect with you. The ring will help to temporarily...super-charge you, for lack of a better term."

"You mean _super-charge_ Darquesse." China hesitates for just a moment too long, and Valkyrie shakes her head, trying to hand the ring back. "I can't. I'm trying to train her, and giving her more power isn't going to help anyone."

"It is up to you, my dear. Shove it in a drawer for all I care but do not say that I have never tried to help."

Valkyrie quirks an eyebrow at her. "You're not doing this for me - you're doing it for Alice."

"Can't it be both?"

Valkyrie waits, expecting more, but China merely sits, pouring herself another cup of tea and adding a dainty sugar cube. Valkyrie hesitates before awkwardly reaching out to China as if to shake her hand. China looks at the palm, and then at Valkyrie. "Let's not make this formal. Go on home and sleep. Remember the Whisperer."

Valkyrie puts the ring in her back pocket; she clutches the Dream Whisperer against her side, her hand nearly engulfing the strange little figure. "Thank you," she finally says.

"Do not mention it," China replies. And then, "Really, please do not mention this to anyone. I already had to charm Valentine into keeping her mouth shut. I'd rather not do that to you, as well."

Valkyrie nods and goes, not looking back. It's something China appreciates about her.

China waits for twenty minutes before moving across the room to her phone. The line is secure and inaccessible, so she doesn't concern herself with holding her tongue when Skulduggery answers.

"China," he greets.

"Does she have any sign of sensitivity?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Valkyrie. Has she seen things before this...episode?" He is reticent. "Skulduggery," she presses.

"She says no."

"But?"

"...I think she has."

He doesn't continue; China knows he won't even if she leans into the delay. "Do you trust her?" she asks finally.

"With my entire being."

"Do you trust her to tell you everything?"

"No one tells anyone _everything,_ China."

China waits, but nothing else comes. "I don't know if Alice is strong enough that she can project herself without help. She's just a child."

"I've learned never to underestimate children. Darquesse rose when Valkyrie was thirteen. Alice was able to predict Russia."

"But her prediction didn't help, did it?"

"Perhaps not," Skulduggery admits. "But she is now spending all of her time with Abyssinia. Alice might be listening, learning."

"True," China admits, considering. "If Abyssinia is stronger now, as you say...perhaps Alice has picked something up from her. Or..."

"Or Abyssinia is manipulating Alice with her true name."

"I would not be the first time it's happened," China says softly, trying to forget Argeddion as soon as he enters her mind. "Skulduggery, I know you have feelings for Valkyrie, but-"

"Will this conversation end in me hanging up on you? If so, that's fine; I'd just like to prepare so I don't accidentally hit the speakerphone button. That's always a bit embarrassing."

"Alice's life - and power - is in very dangerous hands. The most dangerous, perhaps. If Valkyrie hides something, just one detail..."

"I know." Skulduggery's voice is so soft that China nearly misses it.

China lets out a quiet breath and listens to the silence on the other end. China imagines Skulduggery as who he used to be, as the man she 'loved' from afar, the man she was willing to destroy when she orchestrated his family's death. She isn't sure why she still clings to those hazy images from so long ago, but she does.

"You know I loathe apologies, so don't expect one," she finally says.

"And why would I expect one? I'm having the most fun of my undead life."

China doesn't smile. The silence stretches, and then Skulduggery murmurs, "I should go; this _cu-sith_ isn't going to kill itself."

She almost tells him to be careful before she remembers herself. "I never thought I would see the day when the great Skulduggery Pleasant stooped so low as to do the Monster Hunters' job for them."

"No rest for the wicked."

China replaces the phone in the cradle. She watches it even though she knows it won't ring.

Alice reminds China of things she doesn't want to remember. Skulduggery's child, tear-stained, asking why; Caisson, his anger growing as he aged, unchecked even by China's best attempts.

She's failed many children along her way; she's hoping she doesn't lead to another's undoing.

 

* * *

 


	3. Fisticuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three, in which Aurora Jane hates the snow and Ghastly settles things with Skulduggery.

* * *

 

Aurora Jane hated the winter weather in New York, and she certainly hates the anytime-weather in the Swiss-goddamn-Alps. She spends most of her time running the perimeter of her hiding place to stay warm. When that fails to entertain her enough, she bundles herself and goes yeti hunting.

Tanith Low insists that yetis don't exist, but Gracious O'Callahan and Donegan Bane insist that they do. Given the odd, haunting wail that echoes through the pass at night, Aurora has decided to follow the self-proclaimed master hunters' advice: be on guard, wary, and ready for an unannounced strike.

But, like Tanith, Aurora sometimes can't tamp down the blood lust and, on those nights, she goes looking for the things.

Every time she returns to the cave, she's yeti-less, flushed and sweating, still cold but at least exhausted. She checks the cameras three times, ensuring all is as she left it. And then she slumps onto the couch that serves as her only seating option.

Except for the magic-bound case, of course, but that serves as a much better footrest than a chair. Aurora puts her feet up and shivers in her layers, watching the shadows leaking from the container coil around her boots, seeking.

Aurora wonders if the armour could kill her on its own; she isn't about to find out, of course, but she has nothing but freedom to ponder. It takes Gracious and Donegan more and more time between visits, staggering their entrances, careful not to draw attention.

She glances at the calendar stapled to the couch. Two more weeks, and she'll rotate out. Two more weeks, and she's taking a goddamn holiday somewhere warm.

"Damned Vile," she mutters to herself. She kicks one of the seeking shadows off of her leg and closes her eyes, tucking her face down into her collar to retain a little bit of warmth.

 

* * *

 

Tanith Low hadn't expected a visit from Ghastly Bespoke, and yet he arrives on her doorstep holding containers of takeout with that soft grin on his face. "I brought a lunch fit for the runniest of noses."

"You know exactly how to woo a girl," Tanith admits, stepping aside. She's still sleep-tousled and wearing her pyjamas, but it's not like Ghastly hasn't seen her in more disarray.

She follows him into the kitchen where he begins setting out the containers, flipping the light on and making Tanith wince. She's spent the last two days moseying between her darkened bedroom and the curtain-drawn kitchen with a cold she can't shake. Tanith hasn't had a bloody cold in decades; she forgot how annoying they are.

"I would absolutely love to kiss you right now."

Ghastly chuckles. "But you're sick; I know."

 _"Actually,_ I was going to say it's because you're wearing that ridiculous facade. But yes, I do have the peskiest common cold to ever exi-"

Ghastly flicks his facade away and strides to her, pulling her close, his mouth lowering to hers. Tanith tries not to be too pleased, but she can't help herself. Her arms go round his neck. His hands hoist her up a little more to give his nape a momentary reprieve from their height difference; it's more extreme without the gorgeous pair of thick-soled boots Ghastly made her.

Ghastly, evidently not caring about her sickness, sweeps his tongue into her mouth. She tries to pull back - _tries to_ tries to pull back - but instead ends up burrowing closer, trying to climb into him.

A voice comes from the kitchen entry and makes Ghastly freeze. "I should unexpectedly come home more often."

Tanith snorts and buries her face against Ghastly's chest. "Val," she greets. "How did it go with China last night?"

Valkyrie's expression, which was one of amusement, turns a little sadder. "It didn't."

Ghastly gently extracts himself from Tanith's arms. "We have a lot of food if you're-"

Valkyrie waves her hand, although Tanith catches her appreciative sniff. "I think I want some tea, and then I'll be out of your way."

"Nonsense," Ghastly chides, taking plates down from the cabinet, beginning to arrange the entrees around for the group. "Come and eat something."

He clicks the kettle on before Valkyrie can; the dark-haired woman rolls her eyes and grins at Tanith. _Keeper,_ she mouths and Tanith response with a, _You don't even know,_  which makes Valkyrie's eyebrows raise and her smile widen.

 _Details,_ Valkyrie mouths, but Tanith shakes her head, feigning innocence. "Details," she repeats aloud, drawing Ghastly's attention and Tanith's chuckle.

"Details?" Ghastly curiously parrots.

"It's nothing," Tanith smirks, reaching for a spoon to dig into the large container of basmati rice. "Valkyrie's in a mood."

Before Valkyrie can retort, the front door opens. Valkyrie freezes, knowing the footsteps before he can so much as speak. "Shit," she snaps, turning from a curious Tanith to a tense Ghastly. "I'm sorry; I didn't -- give me a minute."

She hears Skulduggery coming toward the kitchen, can hear his beautiful shoes as they saunter, but she manages to head him off before he can fully leave the anteroom. "Not right now," she says sharply, grabbing his arm and trying to tug him toward the door.

"Is there something I shouldn't see?" he asks, sounding amused, but it dies when she keeps tugging. "Valkyrie, what is it?"

She glances over her shoulder toward the kitchen, and then murmurs, "Ghastly's having lunch with Tanith."

Skulduggery goes very still, but he doesn't give into her tugs on his gloved fingers. "I see."

"Skulduggery," she pleads.

"It's fine," Ghastly says from behind them.

Valkyrie turns to find Ghastly, his temples pulsing, jaw clenched. He doesn't move, and neither does Skulduggery. Valkyrie's palms begin to prickle with unease, with Darquesse's piqued interest.

"Skulduggery, let's go," Valkyrie whispers.

"This is your house, Valkyrie," Ghastly smiles her way, but the expression doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm not kicking you out of your own home."

"Ghastly," Skulduggery says, and that one word, that one snippet of his voice, makes Ghastly's fists stiffen.

"Skulduggery," he returns. Tanith has wandered into the foyer, as well. She's carrying a plate of food, eating as if she's watching a show and not a potential conflict between her and her ex's paramours.

"Can we talk?" Skulduggery offers.

Ghastly laughs, but something unpleasant shades it. "Outside." Skulduggery tilts his head. "I know the house rules," Ghastly continues, adjusting his sleeves higher, rolling his shoulders and neck out.

Skulduggery makes a low sound, almost a chuckle, and removes his jacket, his tie, hat, and then rolls up his sleeves. "Alright then," he says, voice soft.

The pair move through the front door - Skulduggery first, and then Ghastly. Tanith raises a brow at Valkyrie before they follow. Valkyrie leans against the porch column, and Tanith sits on the railing, still eating.

"Lunch and a show - what could be better?" Valkyrie tries to tease while watching the men get into position across from one another, quietly loosening their limbs in preparation.

"My money's on Ghastly," Tanith says, covering her mouth to make sure the spicy masala she's chewing doesn't escape.

Valkyrie thinks about it and then nods.

"Ooh, choosing my man over yours?"

Valkyrie shrugs, leaning over to pluck a piece of sauce-covered chicken from Tanith's plate, shoving it into her mouth. "I love him, but I'm not an idiot."

Skulduggery strikes first - he ducks his way under Ghastly's first jab, going for his own punch to Ghastly's flank. Ghastly pivots, snapping his elbows down, and Skulduggery's fist bounces pointlessly off of Ghastly's thick forearm. Ghastly's opposite fist comes down, so quick that Valkyrie almost misses it, onto the back of Skulduggery's head. A second smack finds Skulduggery's cervical column; Skulduggery goes down.

He's moving before Ghastly can lash out again, though, hastening back and away from the tree of a man. Ghastly politely lets him get up before shoving his fist into Skulduggery's temple, and then his elbow to the skull - again - when he stumbles.

Valkyrie steals another piece of chicken, just barely escaping Tanith's defensive fork-stab. "Go get your own," she whines softly. "I'm _infirmed."_

"You have a dramatic response to a stuffy nose," Valkyrie retorts, going for another. This time, Tanith's fork does snap across her knuckles, making her hiss and drop the stolen goods.

Their attention is drawn back when Skulduggery grunts, favouring the left side of his ribs. He is circling Ghastly, looking for weaknesses. Or so it seems - Valkyrie is beginning to wonder if he has any intention of beating the man.

"Was this merely an attempt to attack me, or would you also like to talk about it?" Skulduggery calls.

"Trash talk or shut up," Ghastly says; it makes Tanith cheer and Valkyrie smirk. It's a common thing for Tanith to remind people of when she is in the gym. Valkyrie has been on the receiving end of that same phrase a million times or more.

"I'd rather just talk," Skulduggery tells him, skirting the next attack. Ghastly dances around him; his forearms block a lacklustre offence from Skulduggery. Ghastly strikes back and the hit connects to Skulduggery's cheekbone. The skeleton reels, attempting the stay on his feet.

"Stop. Talking. Fight me."

Skulduggery lets out an unnecessary sigh and shrugs. "Fine."

And then Skulduggery is moving - fast and high, and then ducking low under a strike aimed at his sternum. He thrusts a hand into Ghastly's belly, barely having an effect when Ghastly tightens his core to dampen the blow. Ghastly gets another two hits in - one to Skulduggery's shoulder, almost deflected by Skulduggery, and then the second to his jaw - and Skulduggery spins back.

"He's lingering," Valkyrie mumbles. Tanith hums her agreement. "He never lingers."

"He's being a punching bag," Tanith says as if it's nothing, as if Ghastly is showing some sign of stopping, as if Skulduggery isn't favouring his ribs, as if Ghastly isn't throttling his skull. "Guilt makes us do stupid things."

Valkyrie tears her eyes from the men. "Is that a layered jab at me?"

"I didn't think it was particularly layered," Tanith shrugs, mixing her rice into the remaining tomato-yoghurt sauce.

"What have I done that's stupid?" And then she adds, "Recently," when Tanith raises a perfect eyebrow at her.

"You're always doing something stupid because you're always feeling guilty for something or another." When Valkyrie doesn't respond, Tanith turns a bit on the railing to look at her. "Did you ever go to see Abby Daye like you said you would?"

"I'm amazed you remember her name."

"She _did_ upend your entire life."

"I'm fairly sure I _ruined_ hers, so." Her eyes go back to the men, but she isn't seeing them. "She still can't walk, you know."

"That's Darquesse's fault."

"Darquesse is me, Tan; you probably know that better than most anyone."

Tanith clears her throat and shinnies her legs back onto the deck, hopping down. "You're you, Val. She's her. Just because she can shoulder her way through doesn't mean it was you. You didn't hurt Daye - she did."

"It's true," Darquesse purrs. "Now tell Tanith how good it made you feel to wake up and find out little Abby was in a coma."

Valkyrie swallows it down, choosing not to say anything to either woman.

A particularly agonized groan draws their attention to the scuffling men. Skulduggery is trying to reset his arm; Ghastly doesn't wait for him, two rapid strikes finding the shoulder socket and hammering into it.

"Say it," Ghastly finally snaps, another fist hooking under his lower ribs, shoving up and sending Skulduggery off of his feet. Skulduggery's arm falls uselessly from his sleeve.

Skulduggery sprawls, and the words that come from behind his teeth are pained. "I killed your mother."

Ghastly stops. He takes a step back, and then a second, and stares down at Skulduggery. "Do you remember doing it?"

"Yes."

Ghastly closes his eyes and turns, coming toward the porch. Tanith stays where she is, watching as Ghastly passes them and goes back inside. Valkyrie touches the blonde's arm. "If Darquesse isn't me, then Vile isn't Skulduggery, either."

She thinks Tanith might tell her that it's different, but the blonde surprises her. "I know. Ghastly's trying, Val."

Valkyrie nods and moves off of the porch and toward where Skulduggery is still down in the dirt. She reaches her hand out to him, and he takes it, pulling himself up. "I'm sorry," Valkyrie says.

"Nonsense," is Skulduggery's response; he sounds oddly chipper. "That went better than I expected."

Valkyrie smiles, but Ghastly is coming back onto the grass, fists tight. Valkyrie takes a slight step to the side even though she knows Ghastly would never do anything to hurt her. She doesn't trust him not to hit Skulduggery so hard that his flying body takes her down in the process, though.

A fist finds Skulduggery's jaw, and he hits the ground again. "Well?" Ghastly demands.

Skulduggery is quiet for a moment. "I know you hate apologies."

"You could at least _try."_

Skulduggery nods and murmurs, "I am sorry, Ghastly." That's all. It's simple but effective, ringing with emotion; the words offer regret without demanding forgiveness in return.

Ghastly swallows and then reaches down, helping Skulduggery up. He returns to the house; Tanith follows him, placing a hand on his back.

"Wow," Valkyrie mumbles. "That...was a moment."

"Indeed," Skulduggery muses, resetting his arm with a grunt of pain.

 

* * *


	4. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four, in which Valkyrie finally talks to Wreath and Alice tries a new tactic.

* * *

 

Valkyrie knows she won't like what she walks into when she goes downstairs, but Valkyrie doesn't have much choice; it's her damned house and she, unlike Skulduggery, can't fly in and out of her bedroom window. Her stomach growling for breakfast and Xena prancing to go outside, Valkyrie squares her shoulders and opens her bedroom door.

Wreath is in the kitchen, his tailored suit just slightly creased at the slacks. It's unlike him to be disorderly, and the detail makes Valkyrie's anger hesitate. Wreath's gorgeous eyes raise to hers; he nods.

Valkyrie turns and goes to the back door, opening it; Xena tears out into the grass, chasing a rabbit before doing her business. Valkyrie stands in the doorway; she can feel Wreath - so close but not moving - and his presence irritates Darquesse.

"Skulduggery shouldn't have brought him back," Darquesse pouts.

"Skulduggery's right - if you want him gone, it's probably wise to have him around," Valkyrie replies softly. She doesn't think Wreath can hear, but she doesn't care; it's not like she needs to hide her self-arguments from him anymore.

Darquesse groans and swirls. "At least let me fight him."

"That's the plan," Valkyrie mumbles. Xena flops into the grass, rolling in the dew and making Valkyrie yelp, "Xena! No! Get inside!"

The dog chooses to ignore her until she sets one foot onto the wet ground. Seeming to realise Valkyrie isn't going to be a pushover today, Xena hops up and trots back, smelling damp and returning the loose grass to the lawn as she moves.

Valkyrie wipes her foot off on the doormat and returns to the kitchen, putting kibble into Xena's bowl and finally meeting Wreath's silent gaze. "So," she says.

"So," he returns. When Valkyrie doesn't move, he sighs and grabs her mug and favourite tea - strong leaves from Assam and Indonesia, procured by China's surprisingly intricate network of tea-producers. Wreath retrieves the kettle, still hot, and pours water into her mug. He pushes it toward her, waiting.

Valkyrie doesn't move. The only sound is Xena crushing her breakfast between her jaws, wagging her tail as if she can't sense the tension in the air.

"Valkyrie..."

Valkyrie remembers Ghastly, how gracefully he handled the fight with Skulduggery, how skillfully he forgot the hate, compartmentalised the hurt. Valkyrie calls on the memory of Tanith, so sure that Valkyrie is better than she is - that she is greater than her basest instincts, that some part of her is still pure enough to be worth saving.

"Let's spar," she finally says, but Wreath shakes his head.

"Not today."

Valkyrie crosses the space between them, skirting around the bar, and shoves him in the chest. He leans against the counter, right beside the oven, so he doesn't move much with the impact. He doesn't even attempt to pull away from her, to push her off when she goes in for another hit. This time it's a fist to his jaw.

Wreath's head whips to the side, and he hisses; Valkyrie thinks he might strike her. He doesn't, but a muscle in his clenched jaw pulses frantically. He's furious with her, eyes stormy when they meet hers. "I'm not going to fight you right now, Stephanie."

"Don't call me that," she whispers, surprised how much her given name rattles her when he says it. It reminds her of being thirteen again; the force of the memory is like a strike to her belly. The fear - God, she was so afraid in the beginning. Electrified, excited, but so damn scared.

Wreath softens and reaches out; his hand hovers beside her cheek, not touching, and Valkyrie loses her will to fight him. Darquesse seethes when she whispers, "Why did you leave her alone? You would have noticed it was her Reflection - you could have-" she breaks off; her voice is so hollow.

"Melancholia needed me."

"So did Alice."

Wreath doesn't freely show many emotions other than anger and salt; but Wreath breaks, just a little, and Valkyrie sees his guilt. She _feels_ it. "I'm sorry," he says, and Valkyrie lets out a soft noise; it's something like a choked sob, but stinted.

"I detest many things," Wreath begins, and his hand finally touches her cheek, cradles it. "I have rarely loathed myself. Until you - and now Alice."

Valkyrie swallows and shakes her head. She wants to push him away from her, but she instead leans into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her, holding her close and tight. "I am so sorry, Valkyrie," he whispers against her temple.

 

* * *

 

Alice rarely leaves the villa's main floor, choosing to sleep on the couch instead of the plush beds upstairs. She tells Abyssinia that it's because she doesn't trust herself on the stairs. It's a lie, of course - just because Alice can't see doesn't mean that she can't map her surroundings. Alice feels the differences in the air, the space in which obstacles are. She can sense the warmth of the windows and doors, the refreshing breeze through the central air vents.

And she can sense the stairs leading up to the bedrooms because her fingertips tingle with an uncomfortable, cold feeling when she draws close.

Alice can feel the bodies even though they're locked in a room at the end of the hall, even though layers of quicklime and tarps have sealed them away. She can't smell them from the foot of the stairs, but she doesn't have to.

Wreath's words occurred to her at some point last night, somehow dislodged after another session with Abyssinia tearing through her head. _Your sister did not need the Order, did not need the power of the dead to feed her. Darquesse is her source._

Alice doesn't have a Darquesse, but she does have access to corpses.

Alice shifts her fingers, feeling the air tremble around them. She wiggles them, flexing. And then she grabs the bannister and begins to climb the steps. She pauses at the top; her fingers are trembling, nearly numb from the force of the air shivering around her.

"Abyssinia?" she loudly asks, waiting for a response, for some kind of sign as to the woman's location. No one replies; Alice presses forward.

Alice feels her way to the bedroom that she is supposed to sleep in; she runs her fingers across the glossy door and steps inside. She stumbles a few times, not knowing the room well enough, but manages to sit on the bed.

She splays her fingers and presses them to the wall facing the cordoned-off bedroom. Her fingers are numb, pins-and-needles, but there's a ghost of sensation. Alice takes a breath, whispering, _Stephanie._

Nothing happens which is both expected and infuriating in equal measures. Alice fumbles her hands across the plaster, pressing her forehead to the wall. She swallows and tries again. "Stephanie."

Alice smells her. She can _smell_ Stephanie and the sharp tang of her favourite tea. She lets out a shuddering breath and murmurs, "Steph?"

"Alice?"

The words are clear and in the room with her. "Steph?" she tries again.

"Alice, where are we?"

"Abyssinia won't let me tell you. I have to be quick-"

"Wreath, help me," Valkyrie says, and then is back to Alice, voice tight and frantic. "Are you alright? What is this place? Is this -- are we on an island?"

Alice lets herself get distracted. "You...you can see?" And then she shakes her head and whispers, "I don't know how much time I have. Abyssinia is looking for the book and her son, Caisson. She's planning on using their strength to jumpstart Vile's armour."

"To use it on Skulduggery?"

"No. On herself."

"Fuck," Valkyrie hisses. Alice can feel something, a slight whisper against the back of her hand. She smiles and tightens her grip on the wall, wanting to turn but trying to maintain the connection for just a few more moments.

"What I said in Russia," Alice begins. "I meant it. You have to kill her."

Valkyrie hesitates. "How do I know this is really you and not her using your name?"

Alice shakes her head, knowing Stephanie can see her. "You can't." She takes one hand off the wall and presses it to her temple. She's beginning to feel faint. "God, it hurts," she whispers, more to herself than Stephanie.

"What about her son?" Stephanie sounds panicked. "Alice, hold on just a minute, okay? What about her son? Can we use him to get you back?"

"Yes," Alice replies even though she doesn't want to, even though she knows giving her sister the information will turn her temporarily stupid, fixating on the wrong thing. "You have to make sure she doesn't find that book or the armour. That's your priority - not me, not Caisson, not anything else."

"Alice, I'm not leaving you-"

"Stephanie," she snaps and then remembers that Abyssinia could be anywhere. "Trust the Seer, would you?"

Stephanie makes a soft noise, and Alice thinks she might feel a ghost of motion against her shoulder. "I love you," she murmurs, her voice so close but getting fainter.

"The book and the armour," Alice repeats. "Focus on the book and the armour - I'm going to be fine, and I'm going to be back, okay?" The fingers on the wall, the fingers still trying to eke out a little more energy from the dead down the hall, stammer. "I love you too," she adds, but Stephanie's breath is gone, so Alice isn't sure if she heard.

Alice slumps to the bed, clutching her chest with one trembling hand. It hurts. It hurts everywhere.

She feels a trickle of blood slowly sliding from her nose down to the corner of her lips, and then her jaw. She's too tired to brush it away.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie is shaking; the fingers gripping Wreath's hand are white-knuckled and trembling. Wreath holds onto her, steadies her, and slowly withdraws his shadows from her hand. The darknesses leaking from her ring is lethargic now; _Darquesse_ is lethargic, losing the ability to strengthen her.

"Did you see her?" Valkyrie asks through a tight throat.

"No," Wreath answers honestly. "I could hear her, though - faintly, through a screen."

Valkyrie nods and releases his hand, eyes closing. "I need to see China," she mumbles. "Her Sensitive, she can...can maybe see something..."

Wreath shoulders her weight - surprised again how such a lanky teen has grown into such an athletic woman. He helps her to the couch where she collapses. Leaning beside her, he takes one of her hands in his. "Rest - we will see China together when you wake."

Valkyrie tries to get up, but her eyes are still closed, her breath quaking. Wreath gently presses her down, a flat palm against her upper chest. Valkyrie is asleep within seconds; Wreath wipes a small drop of blood from her nose and covers her with a throw.

 

* * *

 

China looks surprised when she opens her door to Solomon Wreath, but then she sees Valkyrie leaning in the doorjamb, exhausted. "Did you get run over?" she asks, stepping aside and letting them enter her living quarters. Before Valkyrie can answer, China adds, "Valentine is on her way. Solomon - it is nice to see you again. I was under the impression you were to stay a comfortable distance from Valkyrie's tortured soul."

Valkyrie sags into a chair and puts a hand over her face. "Can we dim the lights?"

China purses her lips but turns off the overhead lighting, flicking on dim lamps in their stead. "You look terrible," China returns to her concerned insults.

"It took a lot out of me."

Clipper Valentine is quick to arrive this time around. "Hello again, love," she greets Valkyrie, taking her place behind the chair, pressing her fingertips to Valkyrie's temples. "Are you ready?"

Valkyrie flexes her fingers; Wreath takes her left hand in his, and China is surprised again when Valkyrie doesn't pull away.

 

* * *

 


	5. Location

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Five, in which Skulduggery looks for Caisson's whereabouts, and Valkyrie looks for Alice's.

* * *

 

China has finally gotten Valkyrie into the bedroom, tucked under the new duvet, when a knock startles her. She glances in on Valkyrie, ensuring the woman is still asleep, before opening the door. She assumes it is going to be Wreath - probably requesting to keep vigil over his prodigal daughter. Even now, even after everything, he still sees the woman as his charge, as a defenceless duckling.

It is not Wreath, though; it is Skulduggery.

"Contrary to popular belief," she begins, stepping out into the hallway and closing her door behind her with a soft click, "I do need sleep on occasion. These midnight visits are becoming a bit excessive, are they not?"

"I need to speak with you."

"I assumed as much," she sighs. She crosses the hall in her dressing gown, her slender, pale feet ghosting across the hallway to her library. Once they are inside, and China assures herself that there aren't any Cleavers lurking around, she turns to him. "Your protegee is asleep in the apartment - she had another visit from Alice, but I am sure she told you this already."

"Where is Caisson?"

China, somehow, hasn't expected this. She turns back to him and controls her breath. "I don't know."

Skulduggery's jaw tightens. There are few emotions that his grinning skull can manage, but anger is somehow one of them. "I left him in your care."

 _"_ I raised him as my own, as was our agreement. And then he aged, as we all do. He fell in love with a lovely lady - Solace, I believe - and then he left. With my blessing, of course."

"You've heard nothing from him since?"

"Not a word or breath from him or Solace, no."

"Why don't I trust you?"

China shrugs a delicate shoulder. "I will tell you anything pertinent; you know this."

"Do you know where he is?"

"No," she answers; it's mostly correct.

"Do you know how to find him?"

"No." It's less accurate than the first but still mired in something resembling the truth.

"Did you kill him?"

The question hits China in the chest, right where her barricaded heart is. She doesn't stagger even though she wants to; she remains upright, dignified, serene. "No, Skulduggery. I love that boy."

Skulduggery turns away from her, going for the door. "Find him," is all Skulduggery says.

China waits for a time, ensuring he's gone before heading across the hall and slipping into her bedroom. She locks and wards the door, turns out the dim lamps, and settles herself onto her plush couch, trying to sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Valkyrie awakes, she's tangled in the softest sheets she has ever felt. She takes in the room; it's China's boudoir. She's only been in it once before, and that situation was less than friendly. Valkyrie groans a little when she sits up - her head hurts, and her chest feels tight.

China is in the living area and wearing a pair of slim-fitted trousers and a lovely, loose-fluttering cerulean blouse. Her boots look expensive and incredibly comfortable. Valkyrie lets herself wonder if she should have China take her shopping. Another part of herself wonders if China would ever deign to go shopping with _anyone._

"Good, you're awake," China says as a greeting. She pours a cup of tea and places a scone on a delicate plate, setting them out in front of the chair Valkyrie usually chooses. "Valentine spent all night searching for clues about Alice's location, but it is slow-going, I'm afraid. Eat quickly - you and I will take an excursion into the country."

Valkyrie raises a brow at her but takes a seat. "Where to?" she asks as she picks the scone apart, nibbling some bits and leaving others.

"There is a Sensitive I managed to locate; she is reclusive and needs aids to assist with her Sight, but she has helped countless lost souls over the centuries."

"I thought all of the good Sensitives were killed after the Darkly prophecy?"

"Most were," China nods, finishing her tea. "It seems that Cassandra Pharos, however unlikely, managed to survive and is living out her life amid the butterflies and bumblebees."

Valkyrie isn't hungry, so she pushes the plate away, hating herself for wasting a perfectly good scone with her anxiety. "Can we go now?"

China stands and sighs. "Take a shower; I'll lay some clothing out for you. It might be a burlap sack, considering how wide those shoulders are..."

"You say that like I wouldn't look stunning in burlap." China raises a brow at the lofty claim; Valkyrie, despite her exhaustion, grins.

"Go on," China scolds. "Do not make me regret putting off my duties for you, darling."

Valkyrie does as asked, breathing a little easier.

 

* * *

 

Cassandra Pharos is older, wisened, and waiting for them on the porch of her charming cottage. "Valkyrie Cain," she greets, eyes trained on her. She doesn't seem to notice China which, in and of itself, is impressive.

Valkyrie glances at China, and then back to Cassandra. She approaches the woman slowly; China loiters near her sleek car, frowning distastefully at the muddy lane and her exquisite boots. "Hi," Valkyrie says, suddenly nervous. Sensitives have always unnerved her a little, but she's sure Cassandra is a perfectly pleasant woman.

But Cassandra Pharos ruins it, striking unease through Valkyrie when she says, "I had a vision of you once - you and Skulduggery Pleasant. You were young in the vision; just a child, really."

"I only met Skulduggery last year," Valkyrie replies, already feeling like this trip was a waste.

"Sixteen years is quite the aberration," she replies softly, "but the future changes with choices. A single choice to leave a place before you normally would, to not speak to someone who intrigues you..." She steps aside from the door. "Would you like to come in?"

Valkyrie glances back at China; the woman has not moved, though she is watching them with something like boredom. "I'll just stay out here in the muck, then?" China asks.

"Good girl," Cassandra calls to China, shutting the door once Valkyrie steps inside. "Now then. What brings you to me?"

"You don't know that, too?" Valkyrie tries not to be abrasive, but - as usual - she fails.

Cassandra chuckles and leads her through the cottage. Valkyrie ducks around a plethora of Dream Whisperers hanging from the rafters, intermingled with drying herbs. She follows the woman to a flight of stairs leading into the basement, but the basement floor is a grate. An umbrella and a rain slicker are the only items in the room.

"Do you murder people in here?" Valkyrie blurts, carefully stepping onto the grate. She notices the coals at the bottom and grimaces. "Death by fire?"

"Fear not, Ms Cain; I am an old pacifist." She goes to the corner and collects the poncho and umbrella. "I'm afraid you'll get a bit wet." The woman sits on the grate, legs crossed. She lights a pack of matches in her pocket, burning each one and tossing them down among the coals. They immediately catch, licking across the coals and making them glow.

"What is this?"

"A trick to strengthen my Sight. Turn the water on - it's the little crank opposite me - and then stand against the wall."

Valkyrie does as asked, watching as water gushes out of the ceiling, hitting the coals and hissing. Cassandra, mostly protected by her slicker and umbrella, closes her eyes.

"Off," she says, and Valkyrie spins the crank the opposite direction. "Come to me," Cassandra continues, and Valkyrie stumbles her way through the dense steam. She crosses her legs under herself, sitting knee-to-knee with the old woman. Water seeps through the relaxed linen pants China let her borrow, but she ignores the discomfort.

"What now?"

Cassandra doesn't answer, but she does offer both of her hands. After hesitating a beat too long, Valkyrie takes them.

The change is immediate; Darquesse hisses slightly, feeling herself leaking out without her permission, shadow engulfing Cassandra and Valkyrie in an effortless flume.

"Open your eyes and show me," Cassandra whispers; it sounds so familiar. It purrs inside of her, soothing her frazzled nerves.

Valkyrie does; Darquesse's shadows swirl up, around, creating the shapes of Alice, of herself, a faint outline of Wreath's power flowing into Valkyrie, bolstering her. Cassandra and Valkyrie watch the exchange; Valkyrie would wonder how Cassandra is using Darquesse's energy to feed it, to bring the shadows out, but she's too distracted watching Alice - reliving the moment. Wishing she didn't have to leave, that she could take Alice in her arms.

The background is hazy - the view from outside of the window lacks detail in the mist, but Valkyrie sees it as she did then. Shrubs grow near and on severe, sun-bleached stone; the waves lap and crash somewhere below the rocks. There are trees that Valkyrie can only half-see, wide and gnarled but dark-green with leaves. The shadows swirl around them, and then the image tightens, clears, the colours seeping in.

"Olive trees," Cassandra murmurs.

Valkyrie's heart leaps. She tries to find something else, something definitive. Darquesse supplies a little more, the shapes through the window clearing as much as they can in the mist.

"She's in the Mediterranian somewhere," Cassandra continues, eyes sweeping across the image outside of the simulated window.

They watch for a while longer until the shadows begin to falter, Darquesse tiring. Cassandra withdraws her hands from Valkyrie's and stands, removing her protective layer and hanging it up.

Valkyrie is on her feet, anxious to get home and recruit the others into scouring the internet for something similar to what she saw. "Is there anything else?" she rushes out, already heading for the stairs.

Cassandra follows her and takes a Dream Whisperer from the rafters. She presents it to Valkyrie and refuses to take it back, even when Valkyrie tells her that China already gave her one. "You use two beds, do you not?" she asks with a smile that almost looks sneaky.

Valkyrie knows she's flushing, and her discomfort with Sensitives is back in full swing. "Thanks," she mumbles because she doesn't know what else to say. She leaves the cottage, clutching the Whisperer in her fingers, ignoring the splinter that presses into her thumb.

China is in the car now. With one look at Valkyrie, she starts the vehicle; it purrs to life like a contented cat. "And?"

"She's somewhere in the Mediterranian."

"Well, that should be easy enough," China murmurs, sarcasm colouring her soft voice. Even so, she gives Valkyrie a fond smile. "You will find her."

"I know," Valkyrie replies, her heart thrumming. She texts Skulduggery, Tanith, Fletcher, and Ghastly. A second, less exclamation-filled message goes out to Omen, Never, and Wreath.

The responses begin to pour in within minutes. Tanith is in the Philippines for a job, but she promises to be back as soon as she can. Ghastly is working and will coordinate with the local Sanctuaries when they know where to go. Wreath is already at the house and pouring through Valkyrie's computer - she really hopes he doesn't go through her search history. Skulduggery, Omen, and Never are on their way to the house - Fletcher agrees to come as soon as his class finishes; _bearing more food than any of us can eat,_ he adds.

Valkyrie, fool that she is, allows herself to feel hope.

 

* * *

 

 


	6. H e l | z a r e

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six, in which Alice begins to pay for her deceptions, and Valkyrie leads a team to Italy.

* * *

 

Alice wakes herself up, screaming in terror and fighting her way across the couch that serves as her bed. She tumbles off of it in her hurry, and she hears Abyssinia's feet on the stairs. Abyssinia never moves with anything less than grace, so it's surprising to listen to her stumble on the last step in her haste.

"What is it?" Abyssinia asks, coming to help her off of the floor and back onto the couch. Her cold hands caress Alice's back and arms, checking for injury. "What did you see?"

"Nothing," Alice gasps, but she knows it's a losing battle. It's over. Abyssinia won't let this go, and Alice is too panicked to control herself. Alice can still hear his voice in her mind, coiling, screaming.

Caisson.

There is a long stretch of silence in which Alice can feel Abyssinia's fingers on her slim upper arm, Abyssinia's cool breath on her jaw. And then, softly, "Have you been lying to me, Alice?"

"No," she whimpers.

"Have you been lying to me, _Helzare?"_

Alice tearlessly sobs out a choked, "Yes."

The strike is so fast that Alice doesn't even feel the wind. Abyssinia's backhand sends Alice careening into the couch cushions. She yelps when another hit forces her back; Alice's head bounces off of the leather couch arm, sending tiny sunbursts through her brain. She wails, blindly waving her arms and trying to cover her face. Abyssinia effortlessly grabs her wrists, holding them while shoving a knee into Alice's belly. Alice cries out, sure that Abyssinia will keep digging, with somehow puncture though.

Will devour her essence.

But Abyssinia's hands drop her wrists and vice on her skull, squeezing. Alice weeps, but no tears leave her ruined ducts; she's sure she hears a crack, sure that her brain is swelling through the cranium and leaking just beneath the skin.

Abyssinia doesn't have to dig far to find Alice's nightmare. Alice's vision. Alice tries to think about the owl, Holly. It flits out of her mind. She tries to think about the horse, Mopsey. Gone. And then she tries Mopsey's one-time interspecies mate, a lion named Stabby.

They keep slipping away, and all Alice can see is Caisson.

Alice feels her stomach flip when Abyssinia discards the vision and reaches further, tossing memories aside until she finds the one of Valkyrie. She watches it three times. Finds the other projection featuring her sister, and observes that twice.

And then she finds the visions Alice tried to hide for so long. It's almost a relief now that Abyssinia has them. Now that Alice can let go of the secrets.

Abyssinia stands in snowfall, blood spattering across a white parka. Her eyelashes are frosted, and they glint like her hair in the sunlight. There's a woman, dead, at her feet. There's a case leaking shadows all over the snow.

"Where are we?" Abyssinia asks, shoving her knee in a little harder.

Alice keens, "I don't know! I don't know! I don't -- _please!"_

"Helzare - where are we?"

"The Alps," she wails.

"And where in the Alps? Please do not make me continue using your name."

"I don't -- I can't breathe!" The knee comes down harder; Alice is sure she's going to vomit. Abyssinia's fingers tighten again, and she tears further, sifting through all of the things that have come to Alice over the past months. Most of them are unrelated to Abyssinia, unrelated to anything - but some are very, very relevant.

Abyssinia finds one from before Russia, one that came to her while she was silence-bound by Abyssinia.

Fletcher teleporting to Lucerne, the dark-haired woman who almost looked like Valkyrie but older, the case leaking shadows.

The cheerful sign welcoming them to Lucerne.

When Abyssinia retreats from her mind, she gets off of her and snaps, "Helzare - you will bring your sister here, just like before. You will tell her exactly where we are. You will beg her to save you. And then you will release her, saying nothing else. Do you understand all of my directions, Helzare?"

Alices tries to bite her tongue off, but her mouth moves as if tugged by strings. "Yes."

"Good," Abyssinia murmurs, but there is no warmth there. Abyssinia wanders away to find a place to watch, and then calls, "Go on then - reach out."

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie drags her mouth away from Skulduggery's, her heart hammering for a very different reason. Skulduggery's hand falters on her bra; he sits up a bit more, bringing Valkyrie with him. "What is it?"

She shakes her head but reaches for her shirt, donning it. "Something's not right. Darquesse feels something."

Skulduggery pushes Valkyrie off of his lap, going to the window. He peers through the drapes and shakes his head. "Where is it coming from?"

"Right there," is her response. She's staring toward the television mounted across from her bed. Valkyrie slides over the footboard and trips across the floorboards, pressing her hand against the wall. "Alice?" she asks. She waits, and then her eyes widen. "Baby, we're so close, we think we know where you are-"

Skulduggery watches, amazed. He can't see Alice, he can't hear her - but Valkyrie can.

Valkyrie is quiet for a long time before the tears start. "Are you sure?" she asks the air. Her left hand curls against the wall, and her ring oozes more shadow. "We're on our way. Alice, we're on our way, okay? Try to -- Alice?"

Valkyrie curses and pulls away from the wall. The expression on her face is indeterminable - fear, hope, love, hatred. "Abyssinia might be onto her. She's in Punta Rossa, in a villa on a tall cliff over the sea."

Skulduggery feels torn between bursting into action and pulling Valkyrie into his arms. He settles on the latter, only to switch to the former. He drags her downstairs, calling to the exhausted people in the spare bedrooms and living room.

He goes for Valkyrie's computer; his fingers fly across the keys, searching. "Fletcher! Tell me you've been to Italy!"

Fletcher stumbles in from the living room, blinking blearily. "I mean...a few places. Florence, Catalina..."

"Naples?" he presses. "Rome?"

"Why would I go to Rome?"

"Fletcher," Valkyrie snaps, "quit being _you_ and help us! Alice is right here-" she points out the giant red indicator on the computer map. "How close can you get us?"

"I...a bit north of Florence?"

Skulduggery doesn't realize that Never and Omen have come down until Never chirps, "I've been to Rome."

"You have?" Omen asks, surprised.

"Jeezey Pete, Omen, I went with my family _last year._ We _invited you_ \- how do you even _live?"_

It takes all of Valkyrie's willpower not to yell at them. "Go home, get changed, and then come back here - we're off to Italy."

 

* * *

 

It takes a lot to surprise Abyssinia now - she thought the last surprise she'd ever experience would be her lover turning on her, stabbing her through the ribs, nicking her heart, throwing her out of a bloody  _window._

But Alice surprises her. She watches, amazed, as Alice holds her hand out toward the stairs and curls her fingers. Abyssinia can feel the darkness passing through Alice, radiating, but she shines like a beacon of purity.

"Steph?" she asks suddenly. Abyssinia perks up, expecting to see Valkyrie. She doesn't, though, which makes her suspicious. She waits, listens.

"I have to hurry - we're in Punta Rossa, in a big villa on a cliff. There's some kind of water -- the sea, I think?"

She pauses and then presses on, "Abyssinia is catching on. I don't know how long until she uses my true name again - I need you to come to get me."

Everything is quiet for a long time, and then Alice lowers her hand. She's shaking with the effort. "She's gone," Alice mumbles.

"Is she coming for you, pet?"

"...Yes."

"Helzare. Is she coming for you?"

"Yes."

"Good," Abyssinia smiles. She gets to her feet and moves into the kitchen, preparing coffee. Abyssinia doesn't want it, but Alice likes the smell of it - it reminds her of her mother. Abyssinia thinks this is a perfect time to torture the girl. "I suppose the only thing left to secure a private jet."

 

* * *

 

The villa is empty, save for three bodies long since decomposed - they are the owner of the home and their two children, Omen assumes. He and Never stay very still while Valkyrie, Skulduggery, Wreath and Fletcher tear the place apart for any sign of Alice. The only thing they've found is a hand-scrawled note on the refrigerator.

_I hear the Alps are lovely this time of year_

Valkyrie is stormy-eyed. Her ring's shadows are writhing around her - they don't lash out, but Omen isn't about to test his luck with the woman. Omen pretends he doesn't see Skulduggery slip onto the terrace and throw a potted plant, smashing it against the jagged rocks below. He pretends he doesn't notice Wreath's anger as it boils under the surface of his skin. It doesn't leak out as Valkyrie's does, but somehow that worries Omen more.

"She warned me," Valkyrie suddenly grunts. "She told me to focus on the book, to focus on the armour, and now..." Skulduggery reaches out to touch her arm, but she shrugs it off and reaches for a nearby floor lamp.

She hurls it. It smashes against the large television, shattering the tempered glass. Her shadows swirl and knock one of the couches aside as she passes. The front door nearly blows off its hinges when she bangs through it.

Never swallows, turning her gaze from Wreath to Skulduggery. "What now?" she softly asks.

Skulduggery thinks for a moment, watching Wreath glide out after Valkyrie. "Fletcher, you need to get to Lucerne. Pick up Tanith on your way. Have her get the exact location of the armour - she can call Gracious O'Callahan or Donegan Bane. Secure the armour and get Aurora Jane out."

Fletcher nods, but he looks worried. "What if Abyssinia's there?"

"Get Alice out before Abyssinia knows what's happening."

"...Alice, Aurora and the armour, you mean."

Skulduggery tilts his head. "Of course." He turns to Never and Omen. "Make sure Valkyrie isn't skinning Wreath alive, will you?"

As they pass through the door, Omen thinks he hears Skulduggery murmur something to Fletcher. When he turns, too curious to keep to himself, Fletcher looks upset. Fletcher shakes his head and sets his jaw. And then Fletcher is gone, winking out of sight.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie blows into the Sanctuary like a tsunami. She nearly knocks over the Administrator when she shoves past her and toward the council chambers. Cleavers move to intercept her, so she shouts, "China! Get out here!"

China comes out before the Cleavers can jostle Valkyrie down the hall. "Enough," she says; the grey-clad guards part and return to their posts and patrols. She raises a brow at Valkyrie but motions her into the chamber.

"Where's the book?"

China folds her arms under her chest. "I was beginning to like you again."

"Abyssinia is trying to find that book."

"There are fail-safes; it is near impossible for anyone to find it."

"Skulduggery's dead ex has come back from whatever grave she was in, and now she's trying to take over the bloody world. I'm beginning to think impossible isn't a word for people like us."

"How much of this is about stopping Abyssinia," China muses aloud, "and how much is about finding your sister?" China waits; Valkyrie doesn't answer, but her face sours. China pulls a small chain from beneath her club collar; a dainty key, pure gold and gleaming, swings from it. "Four keys open room 3 in the Midnight Hotel. I hold one, Anton Shudder carries another. The other two were in the hands of two of my trusted men."

"And where are these men now?" Valkyrie presses.

"Dead - Mettle and Guild killed them. I took care of those two, of course, but the keys aren't easily found. Granted, I haven't put much effort in outside of ensuring they weren't in offices or homes."

"You don't care that half of the keys needed to get a glowing, blood-bound book are missing?"

"Not unless someone finds them." She returns the key to her chest and murmurs, "Valkyrie, I will give you the key, I will allow Anton to open the door for you if - and only if - you find the other two."

"We'll hang onto yours, thanks."

"You will not. I barely trust you to keep your head, let alone my key."

Valkyrie clenches her fists, but China isn't wrong - it probably is safer with the Supreme Mage. Abyssinia has projected into Valkyrie's house, knows where she lives, knows where her family lives - at least it's improbable for her to get to China without taking out half of the Sanctuary.

And, Valkyrie reminds herself, at least the Supreme Mage never lost a sister or a glowing, blood-bound book.

 

* * *

 


	7. Reach Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seven, in which Davina finds more than she bargained for at Aranmore Farm, Skulduggery confesses something to Valkyrie, Abyssinia punishes Alice, and Omen plans to meet with Auger.

* * *

 

Davina Marr knows that something is happening; she can't figure out what, though. She's been to the farm more than a dozen times over the past month, peering across the uneven terrain, the disgusting remnants of long-dead crop fields.

But there's something out there - she knows there is.

Davina waits until she can feel the air shifting again, and then she gets out of her car. She shuts the door quietly, careful not to wake the hapless old man inside the aged farmhouse. Ducking through the patch of land that sports a yellowed flood light, she manages to follow her tingling fingers deeper, toward the shrouded forest.

She yearns to click her fingers, to summon a spark, to let out some of the abundance of energy from her body.

Another pulse floods through her, and she gasps. It's stronger now, closer. She can feel it tugging at her. She turns away from the woods and starts toward the middle of the field, following the omnipresence. There's absolutely nothing but her in the darkness, yet...

Davina _knows_ that there is something out here.

She actually yelps when she hears heavy footsteps coming, and the man - Hanratty, is it? - storms toward her.

"I told you to get off my land!" he shouts, grabbing her arm and tearing her away from the spot, the spot where so much energy is emanating. "But you lot just can't keep to yourselves, can you? That woman trying to buy the place, you trying to intimidate me-"

Davina tries to make a snap decision of how to react - incapacitate him and run? Try to talk it out? - but Hanratty sneers at her. "You have no idea what you've walked into."

He reaches for her and Davina dances away, clicking her fingers and tossing a fireball at him, discretion be damned. It wouldn't be the first time she 'accidentally' killed a mortal who got too close - she doubts China will mind, really. Hell, it was China who was so damned interested in the land in the first place; she might love the fact that Hanratty died in a freak fire.

She is loose-limbed and unconcerned until Hanratty swipes his still-burning hand and steps toward her. He seems completely unaffected, which stuns Marr enough that she nearly gets boxed on the ear. Hanratty's free fist comes down on the top of her head when she ducks to sweep his legs.

Davina rocks back, losing her breath and vision for a moment. He's strong - too strong. Much too strong. He was infirmed when she saw him last, sagging and weakened, but now... It doesn't make any sense.

"You're magic," he says and chuckles, tamping the flames off of his charring clothes. "That's alright - five hours out of the night, I am, too."

Davina feels the hit to her skull, but the pain doesn't register. She wonders, just before she dies, if he managed to destroy her pain receptors.

There's nothing but warmth and wooziness; Davina gives in to both.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery has waited too long to tell her, but part of him considers it mercy to keep her in the dark. He realises that he can't keep going on with his mercies when the name comes out of Valkyrie's mouth.

"Alice said Abyssinia would trade her for Caisson. What if we -- I don't know, what if we track him down? That's insane, though, isn't it? Giving her what she wants..."

Skulduggery is, unfortunately, wearing a facade since they are sitting in the middle of a dog park while Xena tears after the ball Valkyrie tosses for her. She sees the guilt on his face and immediately goes rigid at his side.

"I already went to China. No one knows where he is."

Valkyrie furrows her brows. Xena returns with a slobber-covered ball, and Valkyrie tosses it again, never looking up. The ball nearly strikes a Great Dane, but Skulduggery decides not to tell her. "Why would China know?"

"China raised him; he was just a boy when we killed his mother."

_"China?"_

"We aren't all as cold-hearted as we appear."

"Wow," Valkyrie murmurs, looking up when Xena trots up with some other dog's ball. Valkyrie tosses it, either not noticing or not caring. "China as a mother. I wonder how weird that was?" Her smile is genuine when she casts it at him - Skulduggery hates ruining that smile.

"There is something else." Valkyrie's smile begins to wilt; Skulduggery wonders if his face has arranged itself into something telling. "Abyssinia seems to think Caisson is Lord Vile's son."

Valkyrie blinks at him, and then the smile is back. And then she's laughing, startling other dog-parents scattered around the fenced field. She covers her mouth to quell the gales and, when it fails, snorts helplessly.

"Although this is a much better reaction than I anticipated," Skulduggery begins, "I feel like I have to tell you that everyone is staring."

"I know," she gasps, struggling to contain herself. "I know, I'm sorry, it's just -- Jesus Christ, are there other massive life-changing secrets you're withholding?"

She's still smiling, still amused, not at all seeming concerned about Caisson's parentage. God, Skulduggery hates ruining that smile.

"Just one that I can immediately recall." The smile doesn't wilt this time; she's so sure that it won't hurt her. "I told you I had a wife and child."

"You did."

"I never told you who orchestrated their capture."

Valkyrie goes still. "You know?"

"I've known for a very long time, yes."

"Who?" she whispers.

"Are you sure?"

Valkyrie hesitates, senses it, realises it, but she refuses to acknowledge it. "Who?"

Xena is back without a ball, licking the back of Valkyrie's hand. She ignores it, eyes unblinking, trained on his.

"China."

Valkyrie's smile is gone.

 

* * *

 

"A bit of a change, isn't it?" Abyssinia asks, chuckling. "The cold air is refreshing, I must say, but the _snow._ I abhor snow."

Alice swallows and is glad she can't see. She wishes she couldn't hear, too, and that would have saved all of this from happening. But, she _can_ hear - and right now she is hearing Aurora Jane whimpering.

"It was smart to hide it up here," Abyssinia admits. Something crunches; Aurora Jane cries out. "Who would want to wander around the Alps looking for one bunker?" A loud thud; Aurora Jane retches. "But, alas. This little girl, this little waif of a thing - she can tune into things. Can you believe that?" Alice doesn't know what Abyssinia does, but Aurora Jane breathlessly sobs, making awful, broken noises.

"She can see most things I have asked her to focus on. Granted, she hid so much from me - another impressive feat, though. And I trusted her." Abyssinia tuts, and then Alice feels her. She's striding toward her; her hand wraps around Alice's upper arm, and she tosses her to the floor.

Alice lands on something thick and round - muscled. Alice gags, rolling off of the bloody thing that she assumes is a leg. She can't stop the vomit; she can't stop the tearless sobs, either.

"I am sorry about this," Abyssinia murmurs. Alice thinks she's speaking to her, but then Aurora whimpers again, her voice weak and reedy. "You see, this is not about you. I would have just as soon left you alive as killed you. Well, no, that is a lie. I would have killed you, yes, but it would not have been like this. This...this is all for little Alice Edgley."

"Fuck. You," Aurora Jane manages to spit out between ragged breaths.

Abyssinia reaches out and takes Alice's hands in hers, dragging her to Aurora Jane's face. She places Alice's hands on either side of Aurora Jane's forehead.

"Kill her."

"No," Alice shakes her head. "Please," she whimpers, knowing what is coming but desperately wanting mercy.

"It's okay, Alice," Aurora Jane tries to say, but her words are sputtering.

Alice's sob breaks off when Abyssinia leans in, whispering, "Kill her, Helzare."

Alice's hands press down with all of her might, and Aurora Jane screams. Alice's nails dig in, tearing flesh. She hears something crack beneath her left palm, but still Aurora Jane shrieks.

Alice lets out a howl of her own, pulling her hands free. She shoves all of her weight down on Aurora Jane's throat; it crushes under the impact.

Everything is silent.

 

* * *

 

Omen really missed Grimwood. He loves the flat he, Auger, and Never share, too, but there is something special about the Arbiters' headquarters. It can go from noisy and bustling to silent in a matter of moments.

Since it's a rainy and gloomy day, Omen chooses to slip into the gym. He's not exactly sure how to use some of the equipment in the room - hell, some of them look like Medieval torture devices - but he bravely strides forward and takes a seat on one of the machines he sees Valkyrie use all the time.

It's pretty clear cut, Omen reminds himself. Nothing to be concerned over. He takes the dangling bar in both hands, fumbling awkwardly, and tries to pull it down to his chest. It doesn't move. Omen frowns and grits his teeth and struggles, but it refuses to budge more than a slight wiggle.

Omen remembers that weights are a thing and checks them. Valkyrie - or whoever used it last - didn't reset the stack before leaving; it makes him feel much better about himself, but then he realises that Valkyrie's arms are capable of grappling with 120kg every other morning.

 _She could bench press me without a thought,_ he surmises with a bit of horror. He adjusts the weight, starting low and testing the bar over and over again until he settles with 60kg. It seems manageable, but Omen's brow is prickling with sweat after the first set.

He distracts himself while trying not to pant. Omen is pretty sure he should stop, given that he is alone in the house and he doesn't entirely trust himself not to get hurt or killed.

And then something enters his brain. He dismisses it, focusing on his breathing and his motions. _Keep it slow, keep it even,_ he tells himself, only to release the bar too soon; he winces and loses his hearing for a moment when the weights clatter down onto their brethren, sending sharp echoes through the room.

"Oops," he mumbles to himself, getting up and wandering through the gym. His arms feel like rubber, but he tries the speedbag anyway. It's a terrible mistake, and his wrist suffers from his stupidity within thirty seconds.

It's kind of dumb, he reflects, that he managed to do all of that training with Auger through childhood, and he's still sort-of rubbish when it comes to anything athletic. _Because your parents and tutors trained you to be Auger's punching bag, not a real fighter,_ Skulduggery chided him once when he mentioned it aloud. That made - and makes - Omen feel slightly guilty, for some reason, but also better.

Omen wanders to the kitchen, gingerly supporting his wrist. He finds some leaves tucked away in the pantry, slipping one from the airtight tin and chewing. His pain is fading, but he goes to the freezer for an ice-pack anyway.

While he wraps the thing in a towel and drapes it over his wrist, he notices the book shoved into the corner of the bar, half-hidden under a God-knows-how-old newspaper section. Omen's eyebrows raise a bit, using his free hand to swing the book around, flicking the newspaper off.

It is his old Advanced Symbols tome from the Academy. Omen flips through the pages, finding torn leaflets stuck throughout with scrawled, nearly unintelligible notes. Omen traces his finger across some of the words, squinting at them, and then makes a soft noise.

It's been a while - at least five months - since they focused on the meaning behind the blood-bound book Valkyrie found in the caves. They got distracted quite early on, really - between China secreting the book away, and Alice's disappearance, other things have reigned supreme.

Omen sits down and flips through the pages, seeing it all with a different eye. He doesn't glean anything from it, though, and he slams the book shut, annoyed. Once - just once! - he'd love to be the person with a _Eureka!_ moment.

Omen goes to the fridge and reaches in for a soda he knows he shouldn't drink. And then his phone buzzes. Auger's name and photo make Omen smile and then frown. He misses his brother; it always takes a bit for him to realise it, but his heartstrings will eventually wrench when he remembers how distant he and his twin have become.

 

  
_You're alive, right?_

_Yeah, sorry, been  
working_

_Awesome_  
_Liking it?_

 _Yeah, it's pretty cool_  
_Terrifying_  
_But pretty cool_  
_How's it with you?_

 _Not bad, but I wanted to check_  
_with you about something_  
_That professor who you all looked_  
into back in October  
_Her name was Mettle, right?_

 _I think so?_  
_The Faceless Ones lady, right?  
Religions?_

 _That's her_  
_Have you or the others been by  
the school to collect her things?_

 _...No?_  
_I don't think so?_  
_I don't think any of us have thought_  
about her since she disappeared.  
_Other stuff going on._

 _Makes sense. Why I ask - someone_  
_broke into the storage locker where_  
_her personals are._  
_I can't even begin to tell you if_  
_something is missing_  
_Should we toss it out, or do_  
_you lot think you could use it?_

 

Omen thinks for a moment; he should probably tell Skulduggery, but it's not like he's going somewhere dangerous. The Arcanum Scholars are still in gaol - the three Valkyrie let live, anyway - and Auger is one of the safest people Omen can be with. _I'll be by in a bit - can you meet me outside?_

He doesn't wait for the response - he takes a quick shower and changes clothes before jogging out the door. He returns to the foyer for the keys to Never's car and then returns when he forgets to lock the door.

Finally, five minutes - and three trips between the house and car - later, Omen is starting the vehicle and Auger is replying that, yes, he has some time for his hapless brother.

 

* * *

 


	8. Touch Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eight, in which Auger supplies a missing piece to the Sierra Mettle puzzle, Skulduggery meets with Ghastly, and Omen saves the day.

* * *

 

"I see," Auger ponders while they walk through the corridors Omen used to call home. Life, even. Corrival Academy seems smaller now after so much time separate from it. "So," Auger slowly continues, "you think this Abyssinia woman might be _end-of-the-world_ serious?"

Omen isn't actually sure how much he can tell Auger, but he trusts his brother. He doesn't know anyone who doesn't. "I mean, maybe? She has Valkyrie's sister's true name, so..."

Auger leads him down into a well-hidden subbasement room. It smells dank even though the lights are bright and the walkway clean. "I don't want to be _that guy,"_ Auger begins, but he's grinning, "but you probably should have, I don't know...told me sooner? I'm the one who's supposed to go up against ultimate evil, right?"

"Skulduggery didn't want to drag you in until we have something substantial," Omen mumbles. "Some kind of plan."

"I didn't know the Arbiters planned things."

"We do! ...Sort of. Sometimes."

Auger chuckles and leads him to a pried-open locker. "It was like this when I came down. I went through the box, but like I said...I don't know what I'm looking at."

Omen pulls the box from the locker and sets it down on the floor. He rummages, glancing between creepy trinkets and handwritten notes. Shuffling through her day planner, he pauses, a name catching his eye.

"Why does the name Scorn sound familiar?"

Auger lowers himself beside Auger, tilting the page to glance at it. His eyes widen. "Eliza Scorn?" He takes the book from Omen's hands to re-verify and then purses his lips. "Well. That's interesting."

"What is?"

Auger sighs a little. "I thought being an Arbiter meant you kept up on global events." Before Omen can flush or sputter, he continues, "Eliza Scorn was the head of the Cathedral for a bit, but she got the Elder position last year after Thurid Guild went missing."

"And according to this, Mettle met with Scorn on November first."

Auger furrows his brow. "And?"

"I don't know," Omen admits, but he can't stop thinking about it. Skulduggery, Fletcher, and Valkyrie left for Russia on October thirtieth; Omen was already pulled out of school by that point - along with Never - under duress from the Arcanum Scholars. Around that same time, Abyssinia learned Alice's true name and then took Alice from her own home.

Omen shakes his head, the pain between his temples tightening. "There's too much," he says finally, looking into Auger's honest, warm gaze. "There's too much going on. We have the pieces, but I can't...make...them..." Omen pauses and glances back at the planner. "Occam's Razor."

Auger raises an eyebrow at him. "What about it?"

"Valkyrie's always on about it - focus on the most logical, least far-fetched crumbs and piece them together."

"Not quite what it means, but sure," Auger shrugs. He takes the planner from Omen, flipping through it. "It seems like she was quite the recluse until last June. After that, she had meetings with Scorn twice a month."

"June?" Omen repeats. He first met Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain last June. Professor Renn introduced them to Never, who in turn introduced them to Omen.

"June third, to be exact," Auger hums in response, still flicking through. He pauses, fingers stalling when he reaches September. "The last entry says she met with Thurid Guild at the Cathedral."

Omen doesn't have time to explain; he gets to his feet and grabs the planner. He goes toward the steps, only to come back and grab the box. "Can I take this?" he asks as he leaves the basement level, the box's items jingling pleasantly.

"It seems you already have," Auger replies, getting to his athletic feet and effortlessly catching up to Omen. "Hey, nice gains, by the way." When Omen looks over at him, confused enough to forget his train of thought, Auger adds, "You've added some muscle."

"Really?" Omen asks, glancing down at himself as best he can around a box of creepy figurines. He's reasonably sure that his cheeks are rosy from the praise - for being _slightly_ past-ideal most of his life, the compliment means a lot.

Auger walks him to Never's car. "Need any help today?" he offers. "I know I'm not some global rockstar like you lot-"

"No, just the prophecised saviour of all mankind."

Auger smirks, "-but I could probably help out on the side...I just figure if this Abyssinia ends up being a world-ending threat...?"

Omen nods, and then frowns, and then shakes his head. "I have something I need to do at the moment, but yeah...I'll check with Valkyrie."

"Sure."

"I want you to!" he adds quickly, misreading. "I do, it's just...it's Val's house, and Tanith sometimes wanders around half-naked-" he pretends he doesn't notice Auger's eyes brighten at the suggestion, "-so I don't really want to just...spring you on whoever's home."

Auger shrugs, not offended in the slightest. "No worries - but if I don't hear from one of you by the end of the week, I'm showing up on the doorstep."

"You don't even know where Valkyrie's house is."

"Not at this second, but I doubt it'd be hard to suss it out - sussing things out is kind of my thing."

The phrase brings Omen back to his body. "I've got to go," Omen says, quickly hugging his brother for an acceptable breath of time before sliding into the driver's seat. "I'll text you later," he promises, hoping he remembers. And then he's driving next door to the looming spires of the Dark Cathedral.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery pauses outside of the door. He's tried telling himself that this won't be difficult, that things have smoothed over enough that he doesn't need to worry, and yet. Skulduggery lets out a breath he doesn't need and knocks.

"Come in," Ghastly's voice grumbles from the other side of the door.

Skulduggery pushes through. "Apologies, Elder Bespoke-" Ghastly's scarred brow furrows, "-but I was hoping you might be willing to get me into a room that may or may not exist."

Ghastly's expression doesn't shift. Skulduggery is relatively sure the man won't attack him, but the blank expression on his face doesn't bode well. "And I will buy lunch?" Skulduggery attempts again.

Ghastly lets out a soft sigh and leans back in his chair. "What are you talking about?"

"Lunch. I will buy your lunch. I thought it was rather clear."

"What room may or may not exist?"

"I will preface this by saying-"

"Don't preface - get to the damned point."

Skulduggery hesitates. "Is there a room here - as there was in the original Sanctuary building - that holds documents relating to previous cases, trials, deaths, births, marriages - anything legal, really. Say...between 1856 and now?"

Ghastly's brow raises now. "1856?" he repeats. When Skulduggery only nods, he sets his jaw. "Why do you need to know about all cases and trials since Lord Vile disappeared?"

"I need to find Abyssinia's son," he shrugs as if it's nothing, as if he actually enjoys this. "Or, at the very least, ensure China wasn't lying to me about his location."

"Where does she say he is?"

"She says she doesn't know."

"Ah," Ghastly nods, getting to his feet and going to a filing cabinet in the corner. He shuffles around in the mostly-empty drawer, coming back with a keyring. "Well, if China claims she doesn't know something, then verifying is best. I'll have to leave you to it on your own, though - I am still pouring through recommendations for the new lead detective."

"Marr finally went back to America?" Skulduggery muses as they leave Ghastly's office and flow through the teaming corridors. Skulduggery finds it amusing to watch the fully-living scamper about to get their afternoon meal.

"I don't know," Ghastly sighs. "She hasn't been into work in a few days, so I assume she's either back home or dead in a ditch somewhere."

Skulduggery halts; Ghastly continues for a bit, not noticing. When he does, he turns and scowls. "Well? Do you want into the repository or not?"

"Why was Marr looking into Aranmore Farm?"

Ghastly looks around them, at all of the distracted faces, but he doesn't seem pleased. He nods his head to the side and Skulduggery follows him. They quietly descend into the bowels of the massive Sanctuary, entering into a space that is old and damp, smelling like mould.

"We received a report about something strange happening on the land out there," he finally says now that they are alone, surrounded by silent, sand-coloured stone. "A pair of mortal teens went out - looking for copper to strip, naturally."

"Naturally." Sometimes Skulduggery marvels at how mortal children can be as troublesome as their sorcerer equivalents.

"They called the Gardai because something kept tugging them, but from the inside. The couple felt ill, overwhelmed; they didn't even make it to the farmhouse before they turned and left. The Guard didn't find anything, of course, and the owner says they were high out of their minds."

"So, Davina went out there and...?"

"She went out in daylight first. She couldn't find anything - and the owner didn't seem interesting - so she closed out her report. I didn't hear anything official outside of that."

"Yet she kept visiting it at night?"

"She was logging hours, yes."

"Why?"

"Most detectives don't have your level of exorbitant funds and willingness to work without pay, you know."

"I meant, why did she keep visiting at night when she closed out the report?" When Ghastly has nothing to offer, Skulduggery takes his phone from his pocket. He has no signal, of course, and sighs. "Give me just a moment."

He leaves Ghastly there to unlock the massive, chained and cordoned door, feeding credentials into the small pad half-hidden in the stone. He climbs the stairs until he finds a spot with a suitable signal, and calls Valkyrie.

"How would you like to take a trip into the country tonight? More precisely, how would you like to snoop around Aranmore Farm?"

 

* * *

 

Omen hates it when Never is right. _Buy new shoes,_ Never said. _You're going to trip someday when those damned laces break. And don't get me started on the floppy soles. Do you have no pride, man?_

Omen likes his shoes, though. They're _lived in._ Mr Bespoke made him a nice pair of footwear; while they are exceptional in every regard, Omen can't help but adore these old trainers. Broken laces are nothing, and what harm do floppy soles do?

A lot, Omen realises. A lot of harm.

The Cathedral is massive and barren. There is hardly any light to see by - other than open flames from ancient braziers and stark iron chandeliers. The bare floors are cold stone; Omen can practically feel it from where a piece of sole flaked away to expose a bit of sock. Omen takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and steps into the church.

The door bangs behind him, heavy and unwieldy, and Omen stumbles over a rough-hewn patch on the floor. His sole gets stuck - because of course it does - and Omen sprawls to the ground with a thump.

Omen freezes, keeping his face pressed against the cold stone. He wonders if it's possible to play possum with the Faceless Ones - maybe it is, and perhaps it works on Their followers, too?

When he doesn't hear anyone coming toward him, Omen slowly pushes himself up on his palms and looks around. The massive Cathedral is empty. No one is coming to usher him out or sacrifice him to their Gods. Everything is fine.

Omen gets to his feet, stumbles on the same cracked patch of stone, and resigns himself to throwing the damned shoes away the second he gets back to Grimwood.

He makes tight circles through the chamber, feeling beneath pews and around the walls, the statues, the columns. He's quite glad no one else is around, else they might ask him what the hell he's doing. And then he'd have to figure out what the hell he _is_ doing.

 _If I were a bunch of weirdos who want to die by the hands of their crappy Gods,_ Omen thinks, making his way toward the altar, glancing around, and then moseying behind it. _Where would I hide keys?_

Nothing out in the open, is his first thought, but then he remembers all the times that Skulduggery finds things without much effort. Maybe Omen would get lucky. Valkyrie insists that luck comes to the dangerously reckless; she was referring to Tanith at the time, but Omen's had his own moments of dangerously reckless.

 _Like now,_ he thinks, smiles, and then blanches.

The key isn't near the altar or the surrounding scriptures. He flips through stands with ancient tomes, tossing them aside when he ensures the keys aren't within them.

Before he can move to the opposite side of the Cathedral, he hears the massive door swing open, mournful and ominous. Omen freezes, waiting for his fight-response. As usual, it does not come. His flight-response, however.

Omen shuffles to the darkened back corner of the gallery. There is a door with - strangely - a door knocker, but there isn't a handle. He fumbles around on the wall, feeling for some kind of latch or lever to open the door. Finding nothing, he drops to his knees and, breath shaking from between his lips, fumbles at the floor.

The massive entry door swings closed, clanging heavily, and it gently shakes the door beside Omen. The door knocker clangs with the motion.

Door knocker. Omen closes his eyes and wants to berate himself, but the footsteps are coming closer. Omen reaches for the previously-assumed door knocker and pulls; the door opens without a fuss.

Omen slides into the small space, following stone steps down below the street. There are three doors at the bottom, and each of them is blank, indiscernible.

Omen presses against one - it opens slowly to reveal a bathroom. He exhales, surprised that he didn't walk into a room occupied by one of the Guardians, Rippers, or the Faceless Ones.

Omen, for some reason, needs to remind himself that luck has never been his forte.

And yet, the second door he leans into opens into an empty room.

Save for a small box.

Omen takes his floppy shoe off, propping the door open a bit, and slips inside. The box has wards - difficult ones, at that - but Omen thinks he can see the tenses, can identify where the connections are. He reaches into his back pocket, finding his penknife, and begins to cut through and rearrange, breaking and dispelling.

Trying to, more like.

One failed swipe, just a half of a millimetre off, and a shock crackles through Omen's arm. His hand spasms, he yelps, and his knife clatters to the stone.

Omen's hand is having trouble with fine motor functions, but he manages to grip the knife and awkwardly adjust the cut. He goes slow, so slow, and his hand keeps jittering, but what choice does he have? He doubts he can get out of the damned room carrying the box - it couldn't be that easy, right? Not for something this damned important.

If the keys are even in the box. He'd feel like a dolt if it was just a regular case...in a room with nothing else.

Omen pauses to listen at the door. And then, sure no one is there, he steps back, flinging the box toward the entrance.

It shoots directly back at him, sigils glowing on the doorframe. The box is singed and smells like burnt cedar.

Omen returns to the box, hand a little steadier, and continues to work. It takes ten minutes and what feels like ten litres of sweat, but the box stops glowing and pops open.

Inside, proving that Omen can sometimes get lucky, are two golden keys.

Omen shoves them both into his wallet, which then goes into his pocket. He grabs his broken shoe and begins to run as if his life depends on it.

He breaks out of the stairwell and up into the chamber. He is close to the door when a hand closes on his shoulder.

"Who are-" the voice begins.

"Nothing!" Omen shouts, trying to break free. He panics well before he should, and Omen suddenly finds his fight-response. Omen hits the man in the face with the broken shoe, shoving just like Valkyrie taught him.

The man's nose crunches, he breaks free and yells, and Omen tears out into the rain, his sock flopping wetly.

 

* * *

 


	9. Marvellous Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Nine, in which Valkyrie's day begins very, very well.

* * *

 

Valkyrie is getting close to Aranmore Farm when her phone rings. She rolls her eyes, expecting it to be her mum trying to solidify Sunday dinner plans - again. She spares a glance at the display - it's Omen.

She answers, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear while manoeuvring herself into a somewhat safer position. "Omen, what's wrong?"

"Are you alone?"

Valkyrie frowns, slowing her car a fraction. There's no one else on the tiny country road, so she puts a little extra focus on the teen. "Yes...?"

"No one can see you?"

"Omen, what the hell? No, no one can see me; I'm driving."

"Pull over."

"Oh my God," she mumbles, but the tone of his voice is far from nervous, so that's something. She slides her purple car off to the side of the lane, parking, and breathes, "Alright, I'm sitting in my car, no one can see me, and the car is off."

"I can still hear it."

"Oh my God. Omen. I'm parked. Nothing you say will make me drive off into a lake, alright?"

Omen is very quiet for a moment, and then he shouts, "I found the keys!"

Valkyrie doesn't understand his tone at first; when she does, she struggles to understand the words themselves. And then. "Are you sure?"

"Sending a photo."

Valkyrie pulls the phone from her ear; her fingers are trembling. Holy hell, they're done. They're finished. There's nothing left now except the very end of all of this shit.

The photo comes in. The small, gold keys are the sweetest sight she's seen in a very long time.

"Omen!" she actually yells, overjoyed, unable to contain it. When she puts her ear back to the phone, she can hear Omen and Never cheer in the background.

"Where'd you find them? Did you tell Skulduggery?" she asks three times, thinking the boy is back when he's still celebrating with his best friend. "Omen!" she shouts, sliding back onto the road. She drives faster than she should, but her heart is hammering, and she can't stop smiling.

"Sorry, what?" Omen asks.

"Did you tell Skulduggery?"

"Oh, um. No. I thought you might want to tell him."

Valkyrie slows a little. _"You_ found them - gloat while you have the upper hand on us," she teases and then softens. "Omen, I'm really proud of you." Omen doesn't answer, but the thickness on his end is almost tangible. "Are you going to be around in an hour or two? I'm not sure how long questioning this guy will take, but I'm heading back right after."

"Yeah, sure. I mean, yes. Yes, I'll be here." He sounds like he might tear up.

"Good. And great job."

His voice cracks a little. "Thank you."

"Don't you dare thank me, Darkly." She hangs up, her fingers buzzing with excitement — the little tendril slips from her ring and coils around her arm.

"Look at you," Darquesse murmurs; she sounds pleased - too pleased. "Finally getting your hands on that book."

"It only took a damned year," Valkyrie mumbles.

"It's been a fun one, at least."

"Fun?" Valkyrie laughs, turning the music down; it's hard to focus on Darquesse and Juice WRLD at the same time.

"We both found our better halves."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes, gaze wandering between the empty fields to either side of the car. "Lord Vile isn't your better half."

"You're right; I'm definitely his better half."

Another eye roll - Valkyrie turns the song up again, the bass rattling her skull enough to drown out Darquesse.

The drive winds on, and Valkyrie finally reaches the little patch of land that has taken up so much of her annual curiosity limit. She shakes her hair out when she steps out of the car. The breeze is gentle, but the dark clouds are thickening above her; everything smells like coming rain.

"What the hell?" A voice demands. "I'm not selling! I already told the others that this is _my_ land, and this thing goes when I do!" An old man storms toward her from around the house, carrying a shotgun and pumping it very dramatically. The gun points her direction, but the barrel remains firmly fixed toward the ground at her feet, so Valkyrie doesn't panic.

Valkyrie slips her ring off of her finger, tucking it into her back pocket, and then offers her hands to show that she's unarmed. "Sorry for the bother, Mr Hanratty - I'm Detective Cain. I think you met one of my coworkers not so long ago?"

"Detective? Let me see some identification."

Valkyrie smiles politely, wishing she hadn't opted for the black leather jacket; she probably doesn't look particularly official. "It's in the car."

"Your car's behind you."

"But it's all the way over there," she reasons, pretending that a metre is far enough away to warrant some kind of leniency. "I'm looking for a woman named Detective Marr. Pretty American, grating accent, terrible fashion sense?"

"That jacket _was_ ugly. I suppose you lot don't have a dress code."

"Our dress code is looking good solving crimes."

"She should have got fired, then," he mumbles, shouldering the shotgun. He looks to sag under the weight of it; his eyes are bloodshot, and he's pale. Hanratty reminds her of Melancholia a bit - back when Melancholia was prone to unknown eruptions of fatigue.

Hanratty's drained, but that seems rather standard for old mortals.

"Bit of a snob?"

"That's the one," he says. "Well, she was here a few times. Had to run her off my land a few days back. She was poking around here like a damned scavenger."

"Did she say what she was looking for?"

"Said something about following up on a report of something suspicious."

"Suspicious?"

"Hell if I know. I think she was a little daft, to be honest. Wild-eyed and mumbling while she stumbled round my field. I told her I was going to call the Guard on her, let them sort her nonsense out, and she took off."

"Did she have a car?"

"'Course she did; you think she'd walk all the way out here?"

Fair point, Valkyrie has to admit. "You said someone'd been around asking you to sell your land?"

"Some woman; she wandered off right quick when I told her I wasn't against shooting trespassers, woman or not."

"Did you get a name?"

Hanratty looks at her peculiarly. "I don't get out much, and I'm not selling, so what would the point of that be?"

"Did you _see_ her?"

He sighs - Valkyrie feels terrible when he wavers a bit, resting the gun onto the ground, barrel pressing into the earth. "She was pretty enough, I suppose. Dark hair, nice car."

"Anything else?"

"What does this have to do with your detective friend?"

"I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't look into all details."

Hanratty scowls. "Nothing else. Do you have a card or something? I can pretend I care enough to take it and ring you if something comes to mind."

Valkyrie hates that she likes the old man; he's salty as hell. "I actually forgot my cards. I'll come round again if I have other questions."

"'Course you will," he grumbles. He turns and begins to walk away, mumbling, _All these bloody detectives and they don't even have bloody cards._

Valkyrie ducks into her car, texting Skulduggery.

 

_Did Omen ring you yet?_  
_Also, the farm's owner is an old man, no idea_  
_of anything. Back to the drawing board_  
_Driving home now - ring me if you need_  
_something before I get to the house_

She puts her phone back in its cradle and starts looking for a new playlist - something joyful. Upbeat. Befitting the cheer in her chest and ignoring the dark clouds. Valkyrie feels so good that she sings along to a few.

She's finally going to get that damned book and put it back where it belongs. Until she can figure out how to ruin Abyssinia with it, that is.

When she gets to the house, she jogs inside, humming. Omen enters the foyer, his face tight.

"Omen, you are a God," she proclaims; he doesn't smile, which confuses her, but she presses on. "How did you find them?"

Omen shakes his head at her and glances up toward the second storey. "Tanith and Professor Renn just got back. The armour's gone, and...Aurora Jane's dead."

Valkyrie doesn't comprehend the words for a long time. When it finally hits her, it feels like a bullet to her chest. She lets out a soft gasp, and Omen awkwardly reaches out for her, taking her elbow and leading her to the steps. She sinks onto one and shakes her head. "It's...they're gone?"

She hears her phone chime in her back pocket, but she doesn't reach for it. She grips Omen's hand in hers and focuses on breathing. In and out. In and out. Keep Darquesse down; keep your heart in check. In and out. "What happened to Aurora?"

"Abyssinia."

"I know that," she hisses. Omen doesn't deserve it, but she can't stop the words from searing through her throat. "What -- _Jesus,_ Omen. What happened?"

Omen, to her surprise, doesn't recoil from the outburst. His hand tightens on hers; Valkyrie prepares for something she can't bear. "Professor Renn said Abyssinia beat her, tore a leg off, flayed part of her chest, slit her belly open, beat her...I..."

"What?" she presses. Her heart is in her throat, and her throat has somehow entered her mouth.

"Abyssinia crushed her skull and then her throat."

Valkyrie gets to her feet and runs up the steps. She finds Tanith sitting on her bed, glassy-eyed, looking at the wall. Valkyrie climbs onto the bed with her; Tanith is boneless, sinking into Valkyrie's arms, face pressing into her sternum.

Tanith opens her mouth, breath hot on Valkyrie's clavicle. "How..." Tanith closes her mouth. Her tears are hot as they slide down Valkyrie's chest.

"I don't know," Valkyrie whispers, smoothing hair from her brow and kissing the top of her head. "I don't know."

Tanith sags; Valkyrie holds her.

 

* * *

 

 


	10. Soil Samples and Teapots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Ten, in which Valkyrie and Skulduggery visit Aranmore Farm under cover of night.

* * *

 

"What do we do?"

Skulduggery doesn't answer for a moment, focusing on unnecessarily adjusting the rearview mirror. When he does speak, his words are not gratifying. "We will see China in the morning, get her key, and then get the book. We can hide it in the caves, and then regroup."

"I know that part - _I_ came up with that part. I meant about the armour."

"I am quite aware, but I am still considering possibilities on that front."

"Can you consider faster, then?"

"Perhaps, but someone keeps buzzing in my ear and making this more difficult."

His words are gentle, teasing, but Valkyrie huffs and settles back into her seat, staring out the windscreen. It's difficult to keep silent; she isn't used to it with Skulduggery - not anymore. She wants to demand answers - he always has the answers. But right now, all she can do is watch the shadows on the perimeter of the headlights.

"I have it."

Valkyrie perks up and swivels in his direction. "And?"

"We kill Abyssinia."

Valkyrie glowers.

"It would solve many of our problems."

"All of them, you mean."

"Not _all._ Our time of indiscriminately punching bad guys and killing monsters doesn't end with her, Ms Cain."

Valkyrie smiles, but the tilt of her lips hurts. She can't stop seeing Aurora in her mind's eye. She thinks about her body laid out on a table in the Sanctuary awaiting processing, awaiting her return trip to America.

Valkyrie lets out a rough sigh and presses her face against the cold glass of the passenger window.

"About this mortal we're trespassing on?" he softly asks, offering a reprieve from the brooding.

"Nothing more than I said before; just a cranky old man." She doesn't deserve the reprieve.

"And you're sure that you felt nothing while there?"

"Nothing."

"Well," Skulduggery begins, "I suppose there is probably a reason Marr came at night."

Valkyrie closes her eyes. She doesn't realise she's fiddling with the chain around her neck until Skulduggery mentions it. "I don't recognise that."

Valkyrie lifts the delicate links, showing off the ring attached to it. "China gave it to me."

"Is that something I should be concerned about?"

Valkyrie does smile then. She hates that he can make her smile even when she's pissed, when she's sad. "She says it will help Darquesse with her focus if Alice reaches out," she half-lies. No need to tell him the 'super-charging' bit just yet.

"When," Skulduggery corrects.

"Right," Valkyrie nods even though she's growing less sure day by day. Alice hasn't come back since Punta Rossa - and if Abyssinia took her to the Alps, God only knows what she heard, or if Abyssinia did something to her. Not death; Alice is too valuable for that. But there are things worse than death - beyond death.

Valkyrie's fingers drop the chain and slide across the forks of her y-incision. It's gotten sleeker, flatter; the once-puckered, uneven skin has become smooth, pearly-pink inlays against her flesh.

Skulduggery abruptly reaches toward her, offering his hand. She takes it, letting out a soft breath when he tightens his reassuring grip. "We'll find her," he promises.

"I know," Valkyrie smiles wanly. "Alice said she's coming home - 'trust the Seer' or something like that."

"Precisely. Nothing to worry about."

They're less than a kilometre away from Aranmore Farm when they feel it. Skulduggery lets out a surprised grunt; Valkyrie gasps. Darquesse swirls up, excited, feeling the pulse of pure power and yearning for more.

"Darquesse?" Skulduggery asks, voice tight.

"She's excited."

"Well," he muses to himself, "that's probably not a good sign."

Skulduggery stops the car a ways down from Hanratty's drive, and they continue on foot. They stay well-enough away from the house; Valkyrie really doesn't want to be on the receiving end of a shotgun for a second time today. Skulduggery can see without the aid of light - Valkyrie cannot, so she keeps a firm grip on the back of his jacket, trying to hop into the wet tracks he leaves behind while her eyes adjust.

"You're ruining my suit," he informs her.

"Not all of us can see in the dark, Skeleton." She freezes and Skulduggery grunts, stumbling a bit under the force of her grip on his suit. "Wait. You can see without eyes."

"I hope you aren't just now realising this. I might need to rethink partners."

Valkyrie ignores him. "Sanguine can see without eyes."

Skulduggery fully turns to her; her hand falls from his jacket. "Alice?"

"Do you think? I know this isn't the greatest time-"

"It certainly is not."

"-but...do you think Kenspeckle knows how?"

"If anyone would, it's him." The _'or'_ he leaves off is still audible in Valkyrie's mind.

"She's not going to Dr Nye."

"Of course not. It could probably do it, though. But no, never again - yes?"

"Never again," she returns.

Another pulse of power nearly buckles Valkyrie. Darquesse is strengthening, and the adrenaline coursing through Valkyrie is close to overwhelming. "Skulduggery," she whispers.

"Go back to the car."

"I'm fine."

"Your legs seem to disagree."

"I'm fine," she repeats, straightening. Her head is pounding, a sharp, insistent throb between her brows. "Come on - the quicker we find this thing, the quicker we go home."

They go to the treeline first, sure that it's where the pulses are originating, but the next one arises from their left, back past where they came. "Is it moving, or are we terrible at this?" Valkyrie mumbles, tripping in a divot in the ground and cursing.

"It's not moving..."

"But?" she asks, pulling her boot out of a thick, muddy puddle.

"But there's an echo. Hold still and wait."

It takes ten minutes of holding very still, breathing very slowly, but finally a pulse happens. Valkyrie feels it to their left. And then, softer, a tingling sensation from the treeline. "What the hell is out here?"

She's pleased to hear that Skulduggery's open bafflement. "There's nothing here - nothing easily visible, anyway," he hums to himself, walking around the supposed source. "It's starting here, but it doesn't feel any different until..."

"What do we do?"

Skulduggery shrugs. "I would suggest digging, but that would be overwhelmingly time-consuming and most probably fruitless."

"...So, we...what? Standing here in the moonlight until the pulses decide to tell us what they are?"

"We're off to see China in the morning - she might know more. This oddity, whatever it is, will be the Sanctuary's purview, anyway."

"As much as I hate that I care, Davina Marr is still missing. This is the only place she goes outside of home and work. Isn't that weird? I mean, what if another detective comes out and they up-and-"

_"You!"_

Valkyrie whirls, eyes wide. Her vision has adjusted enough that she can see the damned shotgun in Hanratty's hands. This time, the barrel points at her chest. "Hey there," she draws out. "I told you I'd be back if I had questions."

"At one in the damned morning?" To Valkyrie's surprise, Hanratty doesn't sound all that mad; he almost seems amused.

"Hello there," Skulduggery says, coming to join Valkyrie. His voice is cheerful, as usual, and he stoops a little to look less intimidating. It would probably work, except Skulduggery's facade isn't on, and he's very, very obviously a dead man in a suit.

"You're a skeleton." The gun wavers a bit. "This is...unexpected."

"You're taking it quite well," Valkyrie offers with an awkward smile. "This is my boss, Mr Pleasant. We just wanted to take some...soil samples."

"Regular detectives do that now, do they?" The shotgun isn't wavering anymore. "Take soil samples in the middle of the night, not wearing proper coverings, with no sterilised equipment?"

"We're...new at this?"

"And do the Gardai typically hire skeletons for police work?"

"He has a point," Skulduggery supplies.

Hanratty tosses the gun aside and cracks his neck. He isn't stooped or pale or trembling. He reminds her of Melancholia, but when Melancholia was having a 'good day' - when Melancholia could flay Valkyrie's back to shreds within seconds.

"Skulduggery," Valkyrie begins, taking a step back.

"I noticed," he returns, also stepping back. "Fancy a run?"

"I'd actually adore one," she agrees and takes off toward the road.

The next pulse hits and sends Valkyrie to the ground, shouting as Darquesse digs in and tears. Skulduggery scoops her up, and they're in the air, rocketing toward the Bentley. Valkyrie lets out a little sigh of relief, knowing better but so sure that they're far enough away.

And then they are plummeting to the ground, the mud reaching them much faster than Valkyrie can anticipate. She tries to soften their fall with her shadows, but they still tumble apart, Valkyrie holding her tender ribs and trying to get to her feet.

"What the hell was that?" she gasps.

"A barrier of some kind," is Skulduggery's clipped reply. He undoes the links and the buttons at his cuffs.

"What's happening?"

"Hanratty has magic."

"I don't know how - there wasn't a whiff of anything that Marr or I could find until..." she stops talking; Hanratty is coming toward them. Something crackles around his fingers - Valkyrie can't see it, but she can _feel_ it, how it warps the air around them the closer he comes. "What do we do?"

Skulduggery takes his hat off and places it on Valkyrie's head. "Let me handle this; you lack diplomacy."

"Skulduggery, he knocked us out of the sky, and he's currently advancing with much more speed than a pensioner should."

Skulduggery steps toward Hanratty - he opens his mouth; before the words can leave Skulduggery's jaws, Hanratty tosses his hand out. Skulduggery spins to the ground, nearly taking Valkyrie's feet from under her.

"Plan B," Skulduggery informs her.

Valkyrie tosses the hat off and shakes her hands out. She whips her left hand to the side, a thick coil of shadow striking, curving toward Hanratty. Just as it is about to secure his wrists, the power around his fingers crackles, eviscerating the shadow.

Darquesse screams - Valkyrie can't tell if it's pain or fury, but the ring leaks a river of darkness, swirling around Hanratty's feet, tripping him up.

"You're powerful," he acknowledges, but he strides through them, all of the barbs tearing at his pants. He doesn't notice the pain. He doesn't care.

Skulduggery tosses a gust of air, which knocks Hanratty down and makes him growl. Before he can get up, Skulduggery clicks his fingers and throws a fireball. Valkyrie swirls the sea into a tide, pinning Hanratty to the ground.

"How did you get magic?" Skulduggery asks the man.

Valkyrie strides forward, the shadow parting for her and swirling back in, covering her tracks as she makes them. She unclips the shackles on her belt and kneels, reaching for Hanratty's arm.

Another pulse hits, and it sends Valkyrie to the ground, her head next to Hanratty's knee. The shadows around them flee for a split second before converging again.

But it's too late. Hanratty breaks free of the darkness and slams his knee into Valkyrie's head. Pain flares behind her eyes. Another hit lands against her shoulder, but her jacket takes the brunt of that hit. A fist scrapes her jaw and smacks her face into the mud, breathing in dirt.

There's a reprieve - Skulduggery is distracting him, tripping him up with the air while Darquesse's erratic shadows eddy. Valkyrie hears water somewhere to her right; she wants to turn, wants to see Skulduggery pulling the rainwater from the wet earth. She never gets to see him manipulate water.

A kick to her skull rattles her so much that she can't stand. Gagging through a churning stomach and half-unconscious mind, Valkyrie mumbles, "Alright, 'Kes. All yours."

Darquesse comes out, and Darquesse feels the pull from the land. It's something awful and dark, something unknowable, and it makes her skin crawl in the best and worst of ways.  
  
She snaps her wrist to watch it heal, amazed at the speed it knits together. Something in the air is electrifying her, and she has no idea what it is.

The old human with more strength than he deserves runs at her. His fist is like an anvil against her cheek, but she barely feels the bone crunch. She grabs his retreating hand and pulverises it beneath hers, loving the expression on Hanratty's face.

The idiot actually thought he'd get away with concussing her.

Darquesse grins at him, continues to hold his ruined hand, and balls her left fist. She slams it into his gut, holding him while a second, third, and fourth hit lands. She tosses him away - harder than she intends - and he sails across the front yard, smacking into the shoddy wall of his home. He goes through it, and he screams when he does.

"Valkyrie," Skulduggery warns. "We need to take him to the Sanctuary."

Darquesse ignores him. She stalks toward the house, through the hole Hanratty caused, and stops in front of him.

"Valkyrie!" Skulduggery shouts. "We need to question him!"

She watches Hanratty gasp for breath. She eventually gets bored and goes to the table, tossing it on its side before breaking a leg off.

She hefts the wooden shaft, analyses its weight, and then swings it at Hanratty's knee. The bone shatters under the impact. Hanratty yells and curses and threatens, but his crackling fingers aren't able to focus. Darquesse finds that a little amusing - stupid mortals doing stupid mortal things. Give them one iota of power, and they lose their damn minds.

Darquesse doesn't speak to Hanratty - he isn't worth the bother. She swings the piece of wood around, circling, trying to decide what to do next. She hears Skulduggery coming up the steps; Darquesse sighs and tosses her hand out, shadows surging out of the hole in the wall, tossing Skulduggery back further than she can see.

Darquesse drops the wood and wanders through the lower floor of the house. She touches the worn and torn edges of wallpaper - a tacky, would-be yellow thing with fruit - and brushes the dust from the counter with a grimace.

Her eyes land on a teapot. It is displayed lovingly, sweetly, and Darquesse wonders what the meaning behind it is. Perhaps a dead lover. Maybe a mother.

She takes the teapot, gingerly examining. It's delicate, practically paper, and Darquesse admires the china, the intricate red piping. She isn't sure if she has ever seen anything so beautiful before.

Darquesse takes the teapot with her when she returns to the main room. Hanratty is attempting to breathe - punctured lung it sounds like - and wriggle toward the door. Darquesse stops him with a boot to his back, pressing down, listening to the wet gurgle. She uses the toe to flip him over.

"I like this," she tells him, showing him the teapot.

"Can't have it," he wheezes.

She raises a brow at him, unable to keep from smiling. She wants to tell him terrible things, but she doesn't. She retains those villainous conversations for people of consequence - people who Valkyrie loves. Or hates.

Darquesse retreats to the kitchen after placing the teapot on the coffee table. She tosses more shadows into the yard when she notices a gleaming, moon-lit skull coming toward her. Darquesse selects a small paring knife and returns to the old man.

"Hold still," she suggests, ripping Hanratty's shirt from his torso. "Or don't; either way."

Hanratty thrashes; she kneels on his broken knee, and he passes out, in too much pain to keep shouting. Darquesse grumbles, smacking his cheek until he comes to. He's so pale. "No sleeping," she says, glancing over at the teapot.

The first slashes are slender, soft, barely cutting past the first layer of skin. Darquesse checks her work often, ignoring Hanratty's rattling wheezes. She has to pause a few times to retreat to the yard, tossing Skulduggery around enough to daze the man.

The second layer of cuts goes deeper. Darquesse picks up a technique as she goes, making thin, almost invisible slices for shadowing, thick ones for outlines, gentle ones for detail work. She glances back at the teapot less and less as she works, smiling at the progress. The little washerwoman looks something special, she has to admit.

A sharp pain flashes through her head, and she hisses, falling onto Hanratty's carved chest. He passes out again, but Darquesse doesn't bother waking him.

She doesn't bother, because Lord Vile is standing in front of her, swirling in shadow. He reaches out to her with a hand crawling in darkness.

Darquesse grins, unable to help it, and approaches. "It's about time that we-"

Lord Vile's hand goes to her throat. He throws her against the wall and grabs her hair, slamming her face into the crumbling wood panelling. Her skull breaks through the thin partition; she gasps, sputtering through plaster-torn skin and the dust in her eyes. He doesn't let up - he pulls her neck up and slams it back down onto the jagged shards of the wall. Darquesse gags on the blood burbling up her neck through her torn throat, blindly flailing her shadows back toward him.

Another pulse rips through them. Before Darquesse can so much as think, Vile grips her windpipe between his fingers. His thumbs tear into her oesophagus without a single care or thought, digging in and scooping out.

Darquesse gags. Everything goes dark as Vile pulls her throat apart.

 

* * *

 


	11. Hiding Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eleven, in which Skulduggery receives a cordial visit from Abyssinia; Valkyrie and Skulduggery go to China for the third key.

* * *

 

He could have killed her. Skulduggery is positive that Valkyrie knows it, but he isn't sure if she understands. Skulduggery had her in his hands, and he split her throat apart - just like Vile threatened to do time and time again. It wasn't unlike Vile's impression of the act, either - she felt weak under his hands. She felt frail. Darquesse is fearsome and cruel, and yet her skin tears just as swiftly as Valkyrie's does.

They're the same, Skulduggery reminds himself. Valkyrie and Darquesse, two sides to the same coin. Darquesse isn't Vile, isn't hatred and rage personified, some curse come to life. Darquesse is Valkyrie's other side, the fire to her embers, her bad mood. 

He hopes that Valkyrie wakes up with little memory of the event. He prays to whatever God will listen.

When Skulduggery opens the door to his home on Cemetary Road, he finds it occupied.

Abyssinia smiles at him. "Hello, lover. Before you panic-"

Skulduggery launches himself at her, an elbow aiming for her perfect nose. It glides through; he stumbles past, cursing.

"-I am not here physically," she finishes, arching one of her eyebrows. "Would you like to flail a bit longer, or shall we get to the beating heart of the issue?"

"Where's Alice?"

"That is your first question? Not 'where is the armour'?" She sighs as if put upon. "She is fine. Mostly. She's become irksome of late, so I'm afraid my patience has begun to wear thin."

"I assume you aren't contacting me to schedule your surrender?"

"Darling."

"Don't."

Abyssinia's smile widens. "Don't surrender?"

"Don't use pet names; it doesn't suit you. But yes, please don't surrender - I'd rather put another bullet in you."

"How did you manage with the first one, darling?"

Skulduggery wants to hit her. Vile wants to rip her to shreds - even more than he wants to destroy Valkyrie. "It's not very sporting, astral projecting."

"I have never been very sporting, have I?"

"I hoped death and time might mellow you."

Abyssinia roves the living room; it's more open now that Darquesse broke the large coffee table. "What would you be willing to sacrifice to have Alice returned?"

Skulduggery turns to her, regards her. "You want me, then?"

Abyssinia laughs; the sound is like chiming bells. "No; I want our son."

"I don't know where he is. No one has heard from him in decades-"

"That is because he is not in our dimension."

"That's impossible. The only Shunter alive is imprisoned-"

"Good - then it will be simple for you, an Arbiter, to get an audience with him."

"It isn't that simple."

Abyssinia shrugs. "I see that as your problem, lover; not mine."

Skulduggery thinks about it, but not for long enough. If someone else had been present, if someone else had been there to witness it, Skulduggery would have pretended to consider longer, to reflect.

"I will give you Caisson if you give us Alice _and_ the armour."

"No," Abyssinia replies crisply. "Alice or nothing. _Nothing_ is the wrong choice, by the by."

"Do I have your word?"

"You do - no tricks, no thievery. At this moment, I come to you as nothing more than a mother who wants her son back."

"And you will leave the Edgleys alone?" he presses. "The other Arbiters?"

"For a time; a birthright cannot be held off for long."

Skulduggery watches her, and she waits. "How long?"

"I suppose that depends. When Caisson is strong enough to move forward. When I pick my targets. When I grow weary of letting you play."

"I need a timeframe."

"Would you believe any timeframe I give you?"

"Probably not, but it'd be nice to say I tried."

She smiles. "It is interesting how different you are from him; Lord Vile, I mean. He never spoke - you never stop. He never hesitated - you do nothing but. Love doesn't exist for Lord Vile, but for you...oh, darling. You are easily trapped, aren't you?"

"Thank you for that monologue - have you decided on your timeframe, by chance?"

"Six months," she shrugs. "Perhaps."

Skulduggery walks toward the kitchen, nearly trips over one of Xena's toys, and then turns back to Abyssinia. "Caisson for Alice, then."

Abyssinia's silver hair shimmers as it slides from shoulder to spine. "We have an accord."

She disappears. Skulduggery wishes he had a face to bury in his hands. He does have a skull, though, so he settles on that.

When he's done moping, he texts Ghastly and asks him to have the repository ready - there is new information, and there is no time like the present for investigating.

Skulduggery checks his clothing in the mirror before leaving, straightening out his lapel and fixing his tie. False skin covers his skull, and then his hat covers that.

Now, to find Caisson.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie doesn't like how quiet Skulduggery is on the way to the Sanctuary. It was awkward when Skulduggery came round the house to pick her up. Valkyrie knows he worries about how she sees him - sees Lord Vile - and after the previous day, she supposes that his concern is understandable.

But she kissed him when he arrived, told him that she was glad he reined Darquesse in, and then followed him to the Bentley.

The tension comes back as they drive, though.

"You're pissed off," she guesses.

"Very," he agrees.

"Not with me, I assume."

"Of course not - being upset with you never produces the proper response, so I've given up on it."

"You're trying to deflect."

"Or is it you deflecting?"

"Oh my _God._ Can we pretend we're normal people having a normal conversation for once?"

"It will be more fun if you're unprepared," he informs her. He takes a short detour to one of Valkyrie's favourite coffee shops. He orders for her, and then hands Valkyrie a steaming cup and flaky croissant.

Valkyrie, always distracted by food, forgets what bothered her just moments ago. She eats her croissant and lets him stew.

Valkyrie carries her coffee in with her, breezing through the congested Sanctuary halls. It's easier when Skulduggery is with her - he tends to part crowds like the sea. She sips her coffee and even hums to herself while they wait for the Administrator to hail China.

When the three are in China's apartment, Skulduggery murmurs, "We have the keys." He procures them from his pocket; China observes them, purses her lips, and Skulduggery adds, "I believe you promised us the third? Please, and thank you."

China removes the chain from her neck with a surprising lack of fanfare. "You can go to the hotel when it reforms, and you can open the door, but it won't matter."

Valkyrie stiffens. "Sorry, what?"

"The book isn't in that room," China enunciates very slowly and clearly. "The room is a red herring, dear. The keys, as well. I told you I had fail-safes."

"Then where's the actual book?" she snaps, but her words break off when Skulduggery slams a fist into China's belly, shoving her back into the wall. "What the fuck?!" Valkyrie shouts, trying to pull Skulduggery off of her. "Skulduggery! Jesus -- we can talk this-"

"You lied to us about the book," Skulduggery begins, slowly withdrawing his gun and pressing it against China's chest. It hovers above her heart; Skulduggery thumbs the hammer. "And you lied to me about Caisson."

China's pale blue eyes don't blink, and they don't leave Skulduggery. "The book is only safe if no one can find it."

"That's why we need it," Valkyrie calmly says, putting a hand on Skulduggery's spine to try to ease him up. He doesn't move. "I want to take it back where I found it - only my family can reach it."

"Your family has a vault, then?" China laughs wryly, eyes never leaving Skulduggery. "Even vaults are penetrable."

"Not this one."

China sighs. "To your second statement, yes, I lied about Caisson. He grew too powerful, too rageful. I thought his lover might tamp it down - and she did for a while. But then that darkness Abyssinia passed down to him..."

"You made a deal with the Children of the Spider. You used Creyfon Signate in exchange for a favour, and then Signate took Caisson to another dimension. Am I on the right track?"

The gun presses into her chest a little harder, and China makes an annoyed noise. "Who told you? I want to send them a bouquet for their help."

"There are records on all known dimensional shunters, China. You know that."

"Yes," she begins slowly, "but how did you realise a shunter was involved?"

Skulduggery doesn't answer her, and Valkyrie takes that moment to murmur, "I'm not really sure what's happening here, but could we all just...take a step back?"

"You need to get Caisson back," Skulduggery warns, "or I will finish the job I almost finished years ago."

Valkyrie sees something flicker through China's eyes - it's brief, but she catches a glimpse of it. China's unease makes Valkyrie's palms sweat and prickle. She wants to pull Skulduggery away, but she doesn't. She slips back, giving them room, waiting.

"There aren't any Shunters left," China murmurs. "Creyfon had a bit of an accident after Caisson settled into the new home."

"There is one."

"He's highly unstable."

"I need Caisson back."

"Skulduggery-"

"I need Caisson if we have any hope of getting the armour and Alice. Are you planning on helping us get an audience with him, or would you rather I shoot you and do it myself?"

"You are playing with fire," China warns. She lets it go almost immediately. "I will get you a meeting with the Warden. You can get on from there, I'd assume."

Skulduggery pulls the gun from her chest, resets the hammer, and puts it away.

"I won't apologise for doing what was right," China says as if Skulduggery asked her to. "He was seeking revenge on you, and he was looking for Abyssinia's heart. I couldn't bear to kill him, and I couldn't risk him running free without Solace to tether him."

"I understand. And I would have understood when I first asked you."

China gives one slow nod, acknowledging, and Skulduggery goes for the door. Valkyrie begins to follow and then stops in her tracks. She spins on her heel. "Aranmore Farm."

Skulduggery returns to her side. "Valkyrie?"

"Marr's inquiry into the farm - it came from one of the Elders. Hanratty said there was a woman, pretty, who was trying to convince him to sell the land. It obviously wouldn't be Eliza - she doesn't even leave Roarhaven anymore."

Skulduggery chuckles; it isn't a cheerful noise. "China...would the book happen to be on the farm?"

China purses her lips and says nothing.

Valkyrie's brows furrow. "Those random magic pulses, the ones that made Hanratty insane...they're from the book."

"No," China says, voice firm. "The book is sealed, inactive, and warded in a protective case. It cannot cause...whatever it is you're on about."

"But the book _is_ on the farm?"

"Yes, Valkyrie," China sighs. "Always brighter than you should be."

Skulduggery leaves the room - probably to avoid hitting China - but Valkyrie loiters. "You really don't trust us, do you?"

"I trust you well enough," China offers. "I even like you well enough. Trust and liking, however, have very little to do with protecting the world."

"I'd say trust is pretty important, China."

"And do you trust me with such things?" China presses. "Do you even trust Skulduggery enough?"

Valkyrie swallows. "Where exactly is the book?"

China glances toward the door. "Among the trees."

"That's not very helpful."

"It is not, which is why I will go with you, help you locate it, and then ensure you have, indeed, a proper holding place for it."

Valkyrie can't see China's pain, her worry, but she can feel it. The library around them is shifting to match the mood. "I wish you hadn't hidden all of this from him."

"We all make our choices, my dear," is China's blase reply.

Valkyrie doesn't know if she should throw her coffee on China's perfectly pressed white collar, or if she should toss her around with a shadow. She settles on a brief nod and then heads toward the parking garage.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks Skulduggery when she settles into the Bentley.

"Right now," he begins, reversing out of the parking space, "I'd rather sit and imagine that I shot China."

Valkyrie nods, sipping her coffee. It's getting cold already. "Pretend away."

 

* * *

 


	12. Off to the Races

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Twelve, in which both sides reach an accord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: sexual content (Valkyrie/Darquesse/Skulduggery, Darquesse/Vile). Mild sexual violence (Darquesse/Vile)

* * *

 

In spite of China's words, Skulduggery and Valkyrie went to the Midnight Hotel. With Shudder's assistance, they opened the unique door to find a regular room. A lovely, dark box sat on the desk; inside the lovely, dark box was absolutely nothing.

"I'm not sure what I expected," Skulduggery mused. He left the hotel with barely a word to Shudder; Valkyrie trotted after, but not before giving Shudder an awkward smile and thanking him for his help.

They go to Valkyrie's house - Valkyrie makes tea and eats leftovers, slipping pieces of chicken to Xena; Skulduggery paces the living room and makes phone calls.

When he finally returns to her, she raises a brow at him. "What now?"

"We only have one option as far as I can tell."

"And?" Valkyrie presses.

"We cooperate. We get Caisson tomorrow morning, and then we trade."

Valkyrie opens her mouth and then closes it. She looks away from him, staring out the window into the darkening night. "You're willing to do that for me? Risk bringing another psychopathic killer to our world?"

"As shameful and embarrassing as it is to admit, there are very few things I won't do for you, Valkyrie. Or Alice."

Valkyrie puts her mug down and steps toward him. "We mean that much to you? That you risk ruining our world so that she can die with us when Abyssinia and Caisson take over?"

"You know the answer to that."

"I don't think I do, though. I don't -- what you're suggesting is..."

"Selfish? Treasonous? Immoral? World ending?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Do you have a suggestion that saves both Alice and our souls, Ms Cain?"

Valkyrie shakes her head - the motion is slow, and her gaze remains on him, unblinking. "No, but I'm a wicked person, Mr Pleasant."

"We're all wicked," he says, and his tone makes a part of her believe it. "We simply need to find the one thing that propels us over that edge."

Valkyrie's heart hammers in her chest. Darquesse is thrumming, purring, circling - she likes this version of him. Valkyrie hates to admit it, but she does, too.

She reaches out for him, snagging his jaw and drawing his teeth against her mouth. Her fingers struggle with his jacket, fumbling along the buttons. Skulduggery covers them with his own, his leather gloves soft and buttery. He makes quick work of his clothing, and then hers; he's quite practised at it, though, so she supposes she should stop being surprised at his ease.

When he's naked - and she's feeding shadows into him, coiling them against his pelvic bone - he grabs her ass and lifts her to the counter, sliding Vile's shadow-writhing cock into her. Valkyrie gasps and clutches at his clavicle, fingernails raking. Darquesse and Vile tease one another from the backseats, but Valkyrie can feel each tickle from Darquesse, each snarl from Vile.

"'Kes, chill," Valkyrie gasps when her vision swims with light. Darquesse laughs at that and grips her insides, twists, and Valkyrie comes shouting.

Darquesse uses the moment to slip out, to press her hands through Skulduggery's ribs. Her fingers vice on his spine, digging between the vertebrae and pulling a growl from Skulduggery's jaws. Her nails - the ones she still has, anyway - are ruby-coloured and glisten like blood against the pale bone. Her thighs tighten around his hips, heels digging in, and she lets out an appreciative moan when he shoves her back. Her head smacks into the cabinet, but Darquesse is too engrossed to care. She watches the shadow swirl behind Skulduggery's sockets. _His_ shadows, not hers. Lord Vile's.

"You're beautiful," Darquesse says to Lord Vile. Lord Vile responds with a rough thrust, hitting her cervix and taking the breath from her lungs. He tears into her, bony fingers digging into her flesh. Darquesse moans and bucks against him. She squirms and writhes.

Valkyrie lets her. Valkyrie gives up the one rein, and Darquesse loves her for it. One hand departs from where she's playing along his spine; her fingers fiddle with the darkness spewing from his chest cavity. She tugs and twists; Vile seethes, biting her neck and drawing blood. It doesn't matter to Darquesse, of course - his love nips heal over faster than he can give them, it seems.

"Lord Vile," she whispers suddenly, surprising herself. The thing ramming into her doesn't answer, doesn't stall, but she continues, "I want you to help me murder that bitch you used to fuck."

Vile's pace stammers, which is both surprising and amusing. Darquesse tightens her thighs again. "I want to see the Lord Vile she got to see. I want you," she purrs against his jaw, "to be exactly who you are meant to be."

Vile smashes her femur with a sharp fist to the muscled leg. She shouts, and he hisses; Vile digs into the flesh, seeking her shattered bone. Darquesse bucks against him, panting and gasping with each painful thrust, with each tightened squeeze on her thigh.

"You want it, too," Darquesse continues, but her voice is breaking each time he repeats the damage, each time he delivers another splintered bone. "You want to tear her to pieces, don't you? Or," she drops her voice to a lusty pant, "would you rather watch me do it?"

Vile stutters against her again and she grins. "Think of all the things we can do to her." His pace is speeding up, becoming frantic. She clings to his neck, pressing her lips to the hinge of his jaw, his temple. "We don't have to make it quick, either. We can destroy her over and over again, century after century until we're bored enough to finish the task."

Vile shouts, a sound of rage and brimstone, and he sags into her while his release sweeps through him. Darquesse holds his head to her shoulder and presses her lips to his skull. It'd be so easy to destroy it - it'd be so goddamn easy to kill him.

It's Skulduggery who pulls back from her, who demands for her to leave. Darquesse tilts her head at him, regarding. "Did I say something to upset you, Mr Pleasant?"

"Bring her back."

Darquesse shrugs, losing interest, and slips into the background. She can't wait to see how Valkyrie handles the conversation that is no doubt coming.

"I'm sorry," Valkyrie says immediately.

Skulduggery regards her. "Was that just Darquesse?"

"...When?"

He sets his jaw. "What she said about Abyssinia. Are those her thoughts, or yours?" Valkyrie pads across the floor to retrieve her discarded clothes, slipping into them. "Valkyrie." 

She turns to him, pursing her lips. "She and I aren't so different anymore, you know. I might be a little less bloodthirsty, but... No, that wasn't just her."

Skulduggery pulls her into a kiss, his teeth pressing into her mouth. He makes her knees weaken all over again.

A voice purrs from behind them. "Darquesse? I suppose that it is nice to have a name for the creature."

Skulduggery is pulling away from her and Valkyrie is stumbling back, eyes widening. Abyssinia is standing there, arms crossed, looking amused. "Stephanie is the best of both worlds, is she not? She has the darkness you crave - and sweet enough to make you forget that you're both teetering on the edge of full self-destruction."

"What do you want?" Skulduggery asks before Valkyrie can stride toward her. She's no doubt astral projecting again, but Valkyrie still wants to attempt smashing her smirking face.

Abyssinia arches a brow. "I am merely here for a time and place, darling."

Valkyrie glances between them, not understanding at first. Skulduggery reaches for his pants, pulling them on. "Tomorrow morning at Hammer Lane Gaol. Valkyrie and I are meeting the Warden at nine - we should be able to get to the other dimension by ten."

Abyssinia smiles; it's a genuine smile, which surprises Valkyrie. She's so goddamn beautiful, but the beauty is too sharp; it hurts to look at her for long. "Wonderful." She turns her attention to Valkyrie. "Alice is excited to see you again, Stephanie. She has been looking forward to tomorrow for months now - don't ruin this for her."

Valkyrie sets her jaw. "We are risking everything to help you; why would I try to ruin it?"

Abyssinia's eyelashes are long and dust her cheeks when she slowly blinks, lazy and cat-like. "It would be remiss of me to not remind you." And then she's gone.

Valkyrie blinks at the space. "That was abrupt."

"That is Abyssinia - abrupt."

Valkyrie shrugs, reaching for Skulduggery's shirt. "Before we were rudely interrupted..."

Skulduggery reaches for her, but the front door opens and closes; Omen and Never are in the middle of a hushed debate when they enter the kitchen, finding Skulduggery in a state of undress and Valkyrie pressing her lips to his jaw.

"Oh," Omen blurts. "Oh. I. _Oh."_

Valkyrie glances over Skulduggery's shoulder, raising a brow. "Do you need something?"

"Nope," Never says, all smiles, and tugs Omen back the way they came. "Haven't eaten today, haven't showered, just got back from Ecuador, exhausted as all hell...but no, we'll go out for food instead of getting cosy here."

"Go out?" Omen whines. "But I still smell like those racoon-things."

Valkyrie groans and pulls free from Skulduggery. "Fine, we're going upstairs. And why do you smell like -- nevermind, I don't care right now."

Skulduggery retrieves the rest of his clothing and follows Valkyrie. They wait until they're securely in the bedroom before Skulduggery chuckles. "He had no idea, did he?"

"About us? I'd be amazed if the possibility ever occurred to him."

Valkyrie undresses and climbs into bed - Skulduggery follows without prompting.

 

* * *

 

The air feels thick; the clouds are dark, roiling above them like a tempest. Valkyrie glances up at the sky and puts out her cigarette, dropping it in the small receptacle near the road. It looks like any other bin. The tiny cabin it sits in front of looks like any old, fragile shed, too.

Skulduggery waits for her to return before heading up to the hovel. He knocks on the rickety door and then makes a noise of disquiet when nothing happens.

"Maybe the door keeper's off at lunch?"

"At nine in the morning?" Skulduggery knocks again - harder this time - before reaching for the knob. The door opens, and Valkyrie's ring trembles on her finger. Darquesse can feel the death.

"Skulduggery-" she stops talking. An old man is on the floor with his blood splattered across the far wall.

"I suppose Abyssinia didn't want to wait," Skulduggery says lightly, stepping over the old man and toward a flickering doorway. "Go on, then. Don't touch the sides unless you'd like to lose your limbs."

Valkyrie lets out a slow breath, squeezes her arms against her sides, and hops over the threshold.

"That was an interesting version of walking," Skulduggery offers, coming in after her.

"Shut up."

"It looked like a particularly ludicrous interpretive dance. Which, as you know, all interpretive dance is ridiculous, so it is an impressive feat."

"Stop," she groans as they enter the gleaming prison. The guards and Cleavers who are meant to patrol the observation deck are dead, their innards coating sections of the glass walls.

"But that hop...that was especially absurd."

Valkyrie steps over another body, following the trail of destruction. The ring on her finger throbs; Darquesse doesn't draw energy from death, but the smell of blood excites her, the promise of destruction. "Are you trying to distract me?"

"I was, but I assume I was failing."

"Don't take it personally; it's hard to distract someone who is wading through blood in their favourite shoes."

The hallways are empty except for corpses; no alarms blare. The prison looks as if the guardians simply exploded, as if it was a sudden and unforeseen attack on all of them at the same time.

"Damn," Valkyrie murmurs when they stumble across five bodies at the bottom of a stairwell. All of them are tangled together, coiled within and through each other; it's impossible to tell one person's limbs from another's. "I kind of want to be impressed."

"She is imaginative," he acknowledges, taking her waist and gliding them over the corpses.

Their crawl through the bloody corridors ends when they discover the lower engine room - what should have been an engine room, anyway. Valkyrie frowns when she finds Abyssinia standing over a man hanging from the ceiling.

"What the hell?" Valkyrie mumbles, surprised.

Abyssinia smiles at them. "This is the man we need - I assume he is being used to power this facility. Odd, but imaginitive," she aknowledges, glancing around at all of the wires. "Anyway. I thought it might be best to allow the professionals to bind him until we reach an understanding."

"Where's Alice?" Skulduggery asks.

"She is in the next room. Shall I bring her in? Reassure you?" Before they can speak, Abyssinia steps around the suspended man, brushing past Skulduggery. She is gone for mere moments before she comes into the room, her hand on the back of Alice's neck.

Alice smiles, her cheeks pressing up against the gauze over her eyes, but her chin trembles a little. "I'm okay," she says, and Valkyrie lets out a harsh, barking laugh. She wants to reach out to Alice, to drag her into her arms, but she remains steadfast.

"Damn right you are," Valkyrie replies, clenching her jaw a bit to keep her composure. "You're an Edgley - we're all badasses."

"Let us finish this, yes?" Abyssinia asks. "Get the boy down and bound - leave the rest to me."

 

* * *

 


	13. The Bad Guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Thirteen, in which Abyssinia keeps her promise.

* * *

 

Silas Nadir is a hateful man. It makes sense, Valkyrie supposes - he's one of the most prolific serial-killers to roam the magical community, after all. His original disdain, however, quickly turned to compliance once Abyssinia spent one minute alone with him.

The screams are horrifying; it is even worse to know that Alice is in that room, is listening to those shrieks up-close. Valkyrie wonders if Alice heard Aurora Jane's screams until the end, too. Did Alice have to listen to it up close like this?

When the screeches stop, the door opens. Abyssinia smiles at them and steps aside, letting them in. Silas Nadir is missing a chunk from his cheek; ragged scratches rake down his neck, an inflammation flush around the wounds. His lips are entirely missing. Blood burbles down his chin, lazily mixing with spittle seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"Minds can be rather fragile," Abyssinia says. Valkyrie is sure she did a number in Nadir's brain, but Valkyrie is more distracted by the fact that blood is pooling under Nadir's chair. Crimson stains the legs of his jumpsuit.

"Silas will take myself and Alice-"

"Alice isn't going," Skulduggery interrupts before Valkyrie can.

"She is. She is going because I know your love for tricks. I would hate to think you might plan to leave me in this other dimension - bring Silas back, kill him, trap me. To reassure me of our brief alliance," she continues softly, pulling the chair out from under Nadir; he clatters to the floor, whining, "I will take Alice with me. Nadir will also stay with me, of course, and tethered like the dog he is."

Valkyrie glances at Skulduggery. He gives her one, slow nod, and Valkyrie bites the inside of her cheek. She procures the shackles' key from her back pocket and offers it to Abyssinia. The silver-haired woman takes it, smiling coyly. "Thank you, love."

Valkyrie doesn't react. "Remember to clamp those back in place before Nadir can shunt you somewhere else."

"I am quite aware, Stephanie."

Abyssinia grabs Nadir's arm, hauling him up to her. She secures her own set of shackles - regular iron strapped to Nadir's left wrist and Abyssinia's right - before taking the key and notching it into place. "You know what will happen to you if you betray me?" Abyssinia verifies.

"I'll get you there and back," Nadir snaps; drops of bloody spit and a tooth hit the ground. "And hopefully I can kill you between the two."

"Good," Abyssinia says. Alice takes hold of Nadir's sleeve, her face trained toward the far wall. Her chin isn't trembling anymore; it's tight and high, defiant.

Abyssinia releases the binding shackles and the trio waver, shimmer, and then wink out of existence.

"Oh God," Valkyrie whispers, teetering on her feet. The force of what they're doing has finally hit, and Valkyrie feels sick. "Oh, _God." What the fuck are we doing?_ she almost demands.

And then the coldness sets in. Darquesse reminds her that one thing matters right now - Alice. And once Alice is safe, once Alice is back home, then Valkyrie can focus on righting the newest sin they're committing.

Skulduggery takes her shoulders and pulls her around, into his arms. "She'll be fine," he assures her.

Valkyrie nods because Valkyrie _knows_ she will be. Alice promised her that today would happen, that Alice would be home and safe.

_And that we shouldn't focus on her. That we shouldn't focus on Caisson. That we should keep the armour and the book safe above all else._

"We might be making a mistake," Valkyrie mumbles, pulling back to meet Skulduggery's sockets with her eyes. "Skulduggery...this might be bigger than losing that book. This might destroy the world."

"It might," he agrees. "In fact, with the way things typically go, I'm sure this is the worst possible choice we could have made." He pauses. "It's quite exciting, isn't it?"

Valkyrie swallows and shakes her head. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"You fish for compliments more than anyone else I have ever known." Valkyrie blinks, thrown off. "I don't mind bestowing them, of course, but for one so sure of herself, it seems unusual."

"Fishing for compliments?" she repeats.

He meets her lips with his teeth. "You know why I am doing this for you; it's the same reason as every other stupid thing I've done for you. And the ones you've done for me."

Valkyrie allows herself a small smile, pressing her lips to his jaw. "What do we do now?"

"We wait," he says.

They wait.

 

* * *

 

Two hours pass at a snail's pace. Four hours is nearly a decade.

After five hours, the air shimmers and pops, and four figures land on the floor. Abyssinia is swift to move, clamping the binding shackles back into place on Nadir's wrists. She undoes her handcuffs and tosses them toward the corner of the room, evidently not needing them. And then she bangs his head against the wall until he's bleeding and slumped on the ground.

"Dreadful man," Abyssinia murmurs. Alice struggles under the weight of a slumped man; Abyssinia leans down to help.

Caisson.

Skulduggery stares at the man, thoughts reeling. He can only see his back and side; he's pale and gaunt, covered in wounds of varying degrees of seriousness and healing. His hair is like Abyssinia's but ragged, matted.

Abyssinia lifts Caisson, easily shouldering his weight. She smiles, the expression gentle as she gazes at Skulduggery. "Would you like to say hello to your son, or shall I keep on?"

"Go," Skulduggery says; he doesn't have a chest, but it feels like the void is clenching. "While you still can."

"Of course." Abyssinia glances toward Alice. "I'll see you soon, Alice. And remember what I said, will you?" Abyssinia chuckles as if she made a joke, and then heads for the door.

Valkyrie goes to Alice, sweeping the girl into her arms. Unexpected sobs break from her throat - Alice is making dry hiccuping noises against her neck. "Are you okay?" Valkyrie whispers, brushing the girl's hair back, smoothing her fingers over Alice's unblemished skin. "She didn't hurt you, did she? Alice?"

Alice doesn't speak. She doesn't make any indication of being able to communicate other than the sharp, muted cries.

"Abyssinia swore her to silence," Skulduggery murmurs.

Valkyrie swallows and shakes her head, her hands smoothing across Alice's jaw. "That's fine. It's fine. Baby, it's okay - we're going home."

An alarm blares, warbling, and Skulduggery jumps into action, pulling his gun out and slipping into the hallway. "It's probably nothing," he assures Valkyrie when she moves to follow. "Stay and chat, catch up - I'll take a look around, shoot Abyssinia if she's still here, and then poke on back when everything is clear."

He makes it a single floor up when he realises that it isn't _nothing._ "Oh," he murmurs, tilting his head. "I'm not sure you're supposed to be out here."

The prisoner in front of him - orange jumpsuit speckled with blood and a crackling dagger in his hand - blinks, steps back, and then grins.

And then he charges.

Skulduggery tosses the air at him, blowing him off of his feet. He slams back, covering five metres with so much velocity that he loses consciousness when he hits the glass wall.

Skulduggery glances round in time to see three more prisoners staring at him, eyes wide, amazed, excited. Skulduggery is relatively sure one of them is here because of him, but all of the faces begin to blur together after a while.

"Pleasant," the one with the badly broken nose snarls.

"Ah, yes," Skulduggery nods. "I thought I remembered you." He raises his gun and fires three rounds, each finding one of the men. In their pain and stumbling, Skulduggery turns on his heel and runs down the steps. He nearly runs into Valkyrie when she darts into the hallway, hands coiling with dripping shadows.

"Abyssinia?" she asks.

"No, it's not that bad."

"Well, then? Rats?"

"Perhaps - I suppose it depends on your definition of 'rat'." Before she can demand an answer, he says, "It's not exactly an emergency, but it seems that there has been a prison break."

"Oh, is that all?" Valkyrie snips. She ducks her head inside the room. "Alice, stay here." She then sweeps a swathe of shadows into the room, pinning Silas Nadir down. Skulduggery is sure that the man is too concussed to do anything, but he also knows Valkyrie isn't going to risk anything with Alice left alone.

"'Kes?" Valkyrie says aloud; Skulduggery glances at her for a moment, watching the wry smile on her face. "How about some in-field training?"

When they break through to the first floor, prisoners swarming past to reach the only door, it is Darquesse who swirls a shadow out, sweeping it fast and low, tripping everyone to the ground. The darkness surges up and coils around them all; when Darquesse squeezes her hand shut, the shadows constrict.

When they withdraw, crushed bits and pulpy blood cover the walkway.

"Good lord," Skulduggery murmurs.

"The good Lord has no voice here, Skeleton," Darquesse winks at him, merrily jogging after the now-screaming, fleeing convicts.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery takes them to Kenspeckle first. He stays outside while Kenspeckle examines Valkyrie and Alice. He then drives them to Ghastly's shop. The man is already there, along with Tanith and Omen. While Ghastly begins a set of clothing for Alice - rushed, but it is too important to wait - the platinum-haired girl sits with Tanith, her head resting on the woman's shoulder.

Omen talks to Alice even though Alice can't respond or acknowledge. Omen doesn't seem to mind; his kind face never loses its sense of awe at her magnificence. "You are amazing," Omen tells her.

Tanith grins, but then her chin trembles and her eyes begin to water. Valkyrie sees the sudden horror catching up to Tanith; Valkyrie rushes in, pulling Alice away with a cheerful, "Mum and Dad are going to be home in a few hours. We have Cleavers set up round-the-clock near the house. Are you-" she breaks off, her lips stammering.

Alice takes Valkyrie's hand and squeezes it, smiles.

Valkyrie swallows and murmurs, "Can you...if I ask you something, can you squeeze my hand once for no, twice for yes? Or...knock on the table or something?"

Alice doesn't react. Valkyrie's shoulders slump, but she tries to keep her disappointment under wraps.

Ghastly returns to the room. "Finished."

Valkyrie nods and takes Alice's hand, helping her through the tight quarters of the shop. She finds the clothing on the workbench - the trousers and jacket are dark charcoal; the tunic is a rich plum that brings out Alice's soft, rosy cheeks.

There is a slim piece of material on the bench, as well; Valkyrie assumes it is a scrap, but then she realises what she's looking at. Valkyrie smiles faintly, picking up the dark purple lace. It's the material she teased Skulduggery with back when she first met Ghastly. She told Skulduggery he would look good with a scarf, and had even modelled it herself.

"Alice, there's a new bandage if you want it," she says softly, slowly. She holds the material out, just barely brushing Alice's fingertips. "It's black cotton on the underside, purple lace on the top."

Alice's fingers reach out, feeling across the surface. She smiles a little, and then reaches up, fingers fumbling with the gauze. Valkyrie hopes she reads it right - she begins to unwind the bandage, her fingers wanting to tremble. She moves deliberately, willing them into submission.

She hesitates for a second before letting the final layer unwind. She doesn't want to see it, but her eyes go to where Alice's blues used to be.

The last time Valkyrie saw Alice, her sockets were trauma-ringed and blood-blushed. This time is easier. Her skin is clean and moisturised, scarred but not gashed. The lack of eyelids is unnerving for a moment - the emptiness - but then it isn't. Valkyrie smiles even though Alice can't see it, and combs the girl's hair out where the gauze tamped it down. "Mum and Dad...God. They're in for a nice Friday, aren't they?"

Valkyrie swallows down the tears that want to erupt. She holds it back; she can't overwhelm Alice - their parents will handle that for her. "Alright, then," she says, tying the top half of Alice's hair up so she can affix the new patch, "I think I am going to die of starvation if we don't get something to eat. Hopefully you still like burgers because I need two of them as soon as possible." She secures the velcro strips at the back of the bandage and lowers Alice's hair down over it.

"Beautiful," she praises. She helps Alice into her new set of boots - slenderer than Valkyrie's and made of thinner, buttery leather. She zips them up to her mid-calf and smooths her hands across the fit. "Ghastly does amazing work."

Alice is still smiling, and the smile is becoming less hesitant with each passing moment. She stamps her foot, marvelling at the lack of noise, and then runs her hands across the jacket, the breathable tunic, the fitted pants.

Valkyrie bites her lower lip and tries to focus on the fact that Alice is back, not the fact that Alice can't admire anything the way she used to. "Lunch?" she asks even though Alice can't answer. She takes Alice's hand and leads her back to the main room. Before they can leave, Alice reaches out to Ghastly. Confused, the man takes her small hand in his massive one. She sadly smiles at him, and then allows Valkyrie to usher her out.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery drives. Valkyrie sits in the backseat with Alice - Skulduggery hasn't seen their fingers part often in the past four hours, not that he can blame Valkyrie. Valkyrie tells Alice about Xena, and how she wanted to surprise their parents with a family vacation - _not to Jamaica, though,_ she adds quickly, _y_ _ou would burst into flame the second you set foot outside of the airport._

When Skulduggery pulls the Bentley outside of the Edgley home, he turns to glance at them. "Shall I?"

"Please," Valkyrie replies. Her voice is strong, but her eyes are nervous.

Skulduggery pauses before getting out. "Alice," he murmurs, "welcome home."

He gets out of the car and walks to the door. He knocks, straightens his jacket, and then Desmond is regarding his facade with a raised brow. "Desmond," Skulduggery greets, and the man's expression morphs to one of concern.

"Did you kill my daughter?"

"No, actually. Is Melissa around? Perhaps we should have a sit, yes?"

"Skulduggery-"

"Melissa? Could you come out here?" Skulduggery calls loudly, ushering Desmond to the couch. The man is too confused to put up much of a fight.

"Skulduggery," Melissa greets, perplexed. "Is Stephanie here?"

"In the car. Come sit for a moment, would you?"

"He said he didn't kill Steph," Desmond informs her when she joins him on the couch, sounding as if it's a legitimate concern of theirs. "If he did, I doubt he would tell us, though," Desmond adds.

"Skulduggery, what is all of this about?"

"V -- _Stephanie_ is going to come in shortly -- actually, let me move this, just in case," he muses, flicking the coffee table away with a gust of controlled air. "Right. Before I begin, I would like to preface this by asking you not to react right away."

"Oh God, he did kill Stephanie. Did you turn her into a skeleton, too?"

"I -- no." He turns his attention to Melissa. "I am about to tell you something, but I need you to remain calm until I give you all of the details, alright?"

"Alright," Melissa murmurs.

"Stephanie is sitting in the car with Alice. Please do not react." To his surprise, both of them stare, wide-eyed, not reacting other than sharp breaths. "Alice is alive, Alice is healthy...but she has had a very rough time."

"Skulduggery..." Melissa whispers. "What happened?"

"They took her eyes-"

"We know," Desmond interrupts. "You already told us this."

"-and now she can't communicate. She can hear, she can understand, but she's name-bound to secrecy. Until Abyssinia reverses it-"

"But she's alive?" Melissa insists. Her eyes are brimming with tears. "She's alive, and she's healthy? She's--she's outside?" Skulduggery nods. Melissa's face sinks into her palms, her shoulder wracked with rough tears. Desmond holds her, struggling with his own emotions.

Skulduggery leaves them to their moment, returning to the car. He opens the door and kneels, facade smiling at Valkyrie. "They need a moment or two."

Valkyrie laughs, "I should think so." She gets out of the car and takes Alice's hand, guiding her. Alice lets go of Valkyrie's hand and steps through the garden, hands feeling their way with familiarity. Valkyrie hangs back with Skulduggery, watching as she adjusts herself.

"I think I'm going to sleep well tonight," Valkyrie softly says.

"You should."

"Even though I just let a global tyrant get everything she wanted to become said-tyrant."

Skulduggery stays quiet; they watch the front door open, and then Desmond and Melissa are sweeping Alice into their arms. "Do you regret it?" he finally asks.

"No," she answers. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"We all have weaknesses," Skulduggery murmurs. "Things or people who we care too much about, things or people who can be used against us, used to hurt us."

"That doesn't make it less disgusting."

"It's only disgusting from the view of those who haven't had to deal with it, Valkyrie. They pretend that they would be selfless, but no one understands it until it happens. Until you have to make that choice - to give in, or to fight - you have no idea."

Valkyrie looks away from her parents and sister, finally meeting his facade's eyes with hers. "I had Alice; you had your wife and child."

"Yes."

"But I gave into evil to save her - you didn't. You didn't go against everything you stood for - you didn't turn into the bad guy."

"If I had a choice, I would have traded the world for them," Skulduggery replies. "But I wasn't given the same chance you had with Alice." He turns to her entirely, gently taking her arms and drawing her closer. "Before you compare your choices to the devil's, take a moment to remember who I am. I _did_ turn against everything I stood for. I _did_ turn into the bad guy - quite literally; I singlehandedly created approximately five years of near-constant terror."

He watches Valkyrie attempt to wrap herself around the words, to fragment them down into something more manageable. She eventually settles on a wry smile and steps into his arms. "Well, I suppose if we're comparing body count, then yes. You're currently in the lead."

"Currently?"

"If Abyssinia wins, I'm moderately sure that I'm going to outrank you within a week."

"If Abyssinia wins," Skulduggery continues, "then half of those numbers are mine, Ms Cain. We're partners, are we not?"

Valkyrie pretends there isn't a part of her - hidden, covered - that relishes her total control over him. "Ride or die."

 

* * *

 


	14. The Darkly Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Fourteen, in which Alice wordlessly supplies answers, Valkyrie recruits Auger, Skulduggery makes a sort-of plan, and Nye finishes a side-project.

* * *

 

"Wake up," Darquesse buzzes, and Valkyrie sits, blinking back confusion. There is a burning sensation on her chest. She curses, fumbling under the tee she borrowed from her mum. The ring China made for her is hot to the touch, searing.

Valkyrie hisses, pulling the necklace over her head and stinging her nose in the process. "Skul-" she stops talking because Skulduggery isn't responding, obviously meditating. She groans and slips out of her childhood bedroom, padding toward Alice's.

The girl lies still and doesn't react when Valkyrie presses into the room. Valkyrie hadn't realised how hard it would be to tell if her sister is sleeping. "Alice?" she asks.

Alice doesn't move.

"She's tugging at me," Darquesse informs her. "She Sees something."

Valkyrie approaches the bed and reaches out, but stops. This close to her, Valkyrie can hear her gentle, even breaths, see the rise and fall of her chest.

The ring is getting warmer in her palm. Valkyrie bites her lip, and Darquesse wriggles. "Well?" Darquesse asks.

Valkyrie glides the ring onto her right hand, forefinger buzzing with pain, and then touches Alice's temple.

 

* * *

 

_At first, Valkyrie doesn't realise that she's in Alice's dream - or vision, or whatever the hell it is. But Alice is beside her; Alice's sockets flicker with something like flames. She radiates heat, her long hair swirling in a wind that Valkyrie can't feel._

_Valkyrie feels Darquesse around them, feeding the power in, sharpening their surroundings and bringing the figures in the smoke to the forefront._

_Valkyrie recognises the surroundings immediately. As colour floods in, so does the scent of Aranmore Farm's treeline burning. The damp grass is mostly clear of the fire, but it writhes in shadow. The midday sun is hot on her skin._

_Valkyrie watches herself stalk by, shimmering in slithering tentacles of darkness. No - it's Darquesse. Valkyrie's gaze follows Darquesse as she spins arcs of shadows out, catching Abyssinia's oozing malice creatures in the sharp torrents._

_Abyssinia stands near the flaming trees, the blaze reflecting off of her hair. Her son, his graceful features blank, is on the ground, bleeding from the gut._

_Fletcher is on the ground, too, unmoving. Tanith is rent in half; the ozone-scented creatures are overrunning Ghastly, tearing him to the ground under their weight and sharp teeth._

_And then there is Omen, struggling to his knees, panting. Darquesse tosses Omen out of the way of an ozone monster, snapping, "Get that book open or die - I can't keep babysitting you."_

_Darquesse launches herself toward Abyssinia, but Valkyrie focuses on Omen, staring in horror and amazement as he stumbles across the ground to China Sorrows' body. The book is in her grip, but Omen pulls it free. With a small grunt, Omen drags his penknife out and slices his hand, placing the leaking wound onto the book._

_It flies open._

_The book opens._

_Valkyrie stares on, amazed._

_And then she stares on, horrified._

_Abyssinia laughs. She grabs Darquesse's arm and pulls it out of its socket. She pummels Darquesse into the earth, heel smashing into her skull._

_"Valkyrie!" Omen shouts, panic colouring his tone. "Skulduggery, I don't -- it's in Gaeilge! I can't read-"_

_Abyssinia moves without moving, flickering in and out of view, the air shuddering around her. She is in front of Omen before Darquesse can get to her feet - she is tearing Omen's throat out of his neck before he can scream._

_Darquesse throws herself at Abyssinia, but the woman catches her, knocking her over and pinning her to the earth. Abyssinia breaks Darquesse's knees with two quick kicks, and then lowers herself on top of them, slowing the healing. The silver-haired woman takes the dark-haired woman's jaw, tilting her face up. One of Abyssinia's hands rests on Darquesse's chest - the other guides Darquesse's mouth up._

_When Abyssinia's lips find Darquesse's, Valkyrie watches her essence leave her body._

 

* * *

 

Alice wakes and pulls Valkyrie along with her. The girl is gasping at the air; her cheeks flush with horror. Valkyrie hopes this is the first terrible thing she's Seen, but she knows it is wishful thinking.

"It's alright," Valkyrie assures her, thumbing China's ring off of her finger and shoving it into her pyjama pocket. She climbs into Alice's bed with her, pulling the girl into her arms. "It's alright," she repeats. "We can change it."

Alice doesn't seem reassured, but she manages to fall asleep after an hour of Valkyrie's soothing.

Valkyrie slips out of Alice's room and returns to hers. She finds Skulduggery there, absently paging through a book. He looks up when she closes the door behind her; he tosses the book aside when she immediately drops onto his lap, pressing her mouth to his jaw. "Alice _has_ been using Darquesse's power to feed the visions, and now I think we have a few much-needed answers."

 

* * *

 

Auger Darkly raises his brows when he opens the flat's door to find Omen standing on the other side. "Did you lose your key again?" he asks with a slight laugh, beginning to step aside. He hesitates, though, foot faltering, when a dark-haired woman steps up beside his brother.

"Ah," he says, understanding. "Valkyrie Cain - it's a pleasure to meet you."

"You, too," Cain simpers, a dimple marring her smooth cheek. "Can we come in?"

He finishes moving aside and watches the pair come in. Cain makes herself at home on the couch, crossing her legs and wiggling the dangling foot. "Omen said he's been keeping you in the loop."

Auger bites the inside of his cheek, turning his attention from Cain to Omen. "You told me they said it was okay."

"I...kind of lied."

"It's fine, though," Cain interrupts. "In fact, we've come across some information that makes us think you might be involved in our coming altercation."

"With Abyssinia and her son."

"Correct."

"The King of the Darklands...and his mother."

"Yes."

Auger considers it and then nods. "What are we looking at?"

"Your familial blood opens a book that can split souls."

"Which means?" Auger presses.

"No idea, to be honest. We can't understand over half of the damned sigils on the cover."

"This is sounding a bit shaky," Auger informs her.

"It gets shakier, don't worry. But, what we do know is that your family blood opens the book. In Alice's vision, she saw Omen open it."

"And then I died," Omen inserts.

"And then he died," Cain agrees. "But the prophecy is about _you,_ Auger. If your family blood can open that book, and Abyssinia can't stop you from reading from it..."

"How do we know I can read anything in it? You don't even know the sigils on the cover."

"I saw the inside of the book." At Auger's raised brows, Cain groans. Evidently, she does not like explaining herself. "In Alice's vision, Omen opened the book, right to a page in Gaeilge. You can read it, right?"

"Of course," Auger says, almost seeming offended at the question. "Who can't?"

"Show off," Omen mumbles; Cain grins, and Auger can't bite his smile down, either.

"Okay," she continues, "so far, so good. Does this sound like something you're willing to help us with?"

"It's my destiny," Auger says as if it's nothing, as if going up against the King of the Darklands is as simple as inheriting a name or fortune. "I assume I can use a room at your place?"

Cain shrugs. "Might as well; it already feels like I'm running a hostel." She gets to her feet, puts her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, and nods. "Well then, Saviour Auger - welcome to the team."

 

* * *

 

The moment that Ghastly comes through the door, Skulduggery takes charge. "Alright," he says in lieu of a greeting. "We have a plan."

"Sort of," Valkyrie amends from where she sips tea between Tanith and Never.

"Right," Skulduggery says cheerily. "A sort-of plan." When no one says anything, when everyone continues to wait, to listen, he tilts his head to the side. "Really? Not a single complaint about playing fast and loose with a world-ending psychopath?"

"We know you, Skulduggery," Ghastly supplies.

Valkyrie gets up to give Ghastly her seat on the couch, hands her tea to Tanith, and goes to stand beside Skulduggery. They're blocking the television from view, not that anything exciting is on. Skulduggery thought it would be amusing to put it on a fireplace channel; the crackling is beginning to grate on Valkyrie's nerves.

"Auger - anything concerning thus far?" Skulduggery checks.

Auger shrugs. "I find plans to be a little overrated; it's not like they hold up for long once things start."

"I like him," Skulduggery nods.

"He gets it," Valkyrie agrees before taking over. "You all know about Alice's vision - Omen died because he opened the book, couldn't read it, and Abyssinia was able to get to him."

"I should open the book," Auger says as if it's that simple.

"And," Fletcher adds, "you should have me or Never nearby. We can teleport you around while you do your thing."

"Perfect. Never..."

"Yep," Never says before Valkyrie can finish, her hair sliding over her shoulder when she ducks her head in acknowledgement. "I should be the one with Auger since I'm not exactly fighting material."

"The opposite," Skulduggery says, which makes Never blanch. "Fletcher's more combat ready, so we'd prefer if he kept Auger safe. If you're willing, we would like you to help us against Abyssinia and Caisson."

 _"Potentially_ Caisson," Tanith interrupts. "Val said he wasn't exactly in the best of shape, right?"

"Potentially," Skulduggery repeats. "But with our luck, I assume we're going to face both of them."

Fletcher shifts on his chair, looking nervous. "I don't like the thought of Never going up against them."

"It's fine," Never quickly says, perking up and pretending her hands aren't tremoring. "I can pop around and distract them. Try out that trick you told me about - grabbing stuff and hitting them, then disappearing."

"Never..." Fletcher trails off. Valkyrie watches him try to come to terms with sending his student into the line of fire. "Are you sure?"

Never nods; she looks surer of herself as each second passes. "Definitely. It's not like I can't disappear at a moment's notice."

"I hate to be the voice of reason," Ghastly begins, "but this book...we still have no idea what it does. What if opening it is the exact opposite of what we want?"

The room descends into complete silence. Valkyrie glances over at Skulduggery, hoping he has come up with an answer to their biggest concern.

"China has agreed to be on hand to us," Skulduggery says as if that answers the question. "She'll ward the land, and she'll help Auger with the book when it's opened."

"The Gaeilge inside should be clear enough about the nature of the book," Auger says. "If it's something that won't help us, Fletcher can get us to safety while you lot take care of the rest."

Valkyrie smiles wryly. "If that happens, take the book into the caves - I'll draw up a map to the proper holding place. Then get back and help us."

"The caves?" Tanith repeats, eyes widening. "Val, there's no way they'll survive down there."

"Nonsense," Skulduggery breezily dismisses. "He's a teleporter - they'll be fine."

"The monsters are drawn to magic," Tanith insists. "They feed off of it."

Valkyrie pretends she isn't worried about the same thing. "It will be dangerous, but they'll be able to make it. Just be sure you don't step into the altar room - toss the book in and then get out."

"Not a single foot," Skulduggery reiterates. "We've boobytrapped it, and only Valkyrie can get inside without dying immediately."

"Why wasn't the book kept there this entire time?" Ghastly asks.

Valkyrie flushes and Skulduggery needlessly clears his throat, changing the topic. "Fletcher, is this something you can do?"

Fletcher lets out a sigh but nods.

Skulduggery continues, "Wreath, how many Necromancers have agreed to help?"

"Melancholia and five others."

"Melancholia?" Valkyrie repeats.

"Alice helped her - she wants to return the favour."

Valkyrie is overwhelmingly thankful that her sister hasn't raised the blonde's wrath the way Valkyrie did all those years ago. "Alright," Valkyrie nods. "Perfect. Omen and China will stay in the wings after putting up the wards around the farm. Keep an eye out, toss some fun stuff our way when we need it, and then come in to bind Abyssinia - and Caisson, maybe - once the book does its thing."

 _"If_ it does its thing," Never murmurs.

"I always appreciate your positivity, Never," Skulduggery returns. "Our main goal is to distract her long enough for Auger to get the book open and use it."

"Or," Ghastly interrupts, "if the book isn't helpful, we focus on killing her?"

"Of course," Skulduggery says as if he's daft. "Have you never been on one of my suicide missions?"

Ghastly smiles. They all do.

Valkyrie wonders if anyone besides her and Ghastly realises he's not joking.

 

* * *

 

Dr Nye considers the body. The corpse certainly hasn't done much of anything since Nye put the thing back together, but it can see the fingers twitch here and there. Nye wonders if the corpse will stay like this, nerves firing but brain-dead, sluggish.

It should have worked. Nye researched this very thing time and time over - even managed to duplicate a re-birth process successfully in its old warehouse. But the corpse remains on the slab - unmoving, save for the occasional finger twitch.

Ah, well. Nye wanders back into the laboratory, sifting through the real work still piling up. Some bodies need to be processed, incinerated, sent back to their family or buried in the Sanctuary's underground plots. There are test samples to run and ointments to mix.

Nye misses its quiet workspace; it misses the lack of interruptions. It sighs, the noise rattling in its lungs, and prepared the incinerator. The unwanted, unloved criminals go there. It embalms three others, hating the sting of the fluid and missing its land of death, the lack of decay.

It doesn't mix the ointments, though - it decides that it's time for dinner.

Nye passes into the small room it's taken over, hidden behind a bookcase it doesn't think the Supreme Mage knows about.

The corpse is sitting up, staring at Nye with her cloudy but still-dark eyes.

"Ah," it shrills, pleased to see her brow furrow in understanding. "Welcome back, Aurora Jane."

 

* * *

 


	15. What Plans Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Fifteen, in which the plan falls to pieces.

* * *

 

The drive to Aranmore Farm is hushed. Valkyrie sits in the back across from Skulduggery; Omen is at her side, his brother and best friend closeby. Wreath and Melancholia stay silent, Melancholia hiding her face inside her robe's deep hood.

Valkyrie can hear the slight whisper of Tanith's voice from beside Ghastly in the front of the van. Tanith feigns excitement, simulates surety. It's obvious, but Ghastly doesn't mind. He chuckles now and then and allows Tanith to wiggle closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Valkyrie's eyes rise to Skulduggery. His skull points in her direction, and she feels the weight of his empty gaze. She smiles; he reaches out in an unusual display of open affection. Valkyrie takes his glove in her hand, thumb rubbing along the leather, the bones beneath.

She opens her mouth to say something, to imitate Tanith's energetic platitudes, but Skulduggery gently shakes his head. She falls silent. She bites her lower lip, watches him for a moment, before murmuring, "When we're done with this..."

"We ensure the book is secure."

"Well...yes."

"And then see your family?"

"That goes without saying, Skulduggery. I'm referring to when we finish all of that."

"Take Xena for a walk?" Valkyrie makes a face at him, but he continues. "Oh, of course. Check in on our open cases."

"You're such a goon."

"You love me for it."

"I do."

Melancholia's face peeks out from her hood, eyes narrowed. "I thought Cleric Wreath was messing about you two."

Valkyrie arches a brow at her. "Is _right now_ really the time to start in on this?"

"I should say so - I'm having to listen to it right now." Melancholia's hood swallows her face again, and she leaves them to their conversation.

But the conversation is over - Valkyrie releases Skulduggery's hand and turns her attention to the teenagers. "Alright, then?"

Auger looks determined, his game-face already in place. His hand smooths over the Soul Catcher Wreath gave him. Never looks like he might be ill, but he offers her a little smile. Omen doesn't hear her - his nose nearly touches the pages of the book China let him borrow. The notations of protection symbols are articulately labelled; still, Omen traces them, mumbles to himself, makes up rhymes to remember the notches and marks.

"Hey," Valkyrie murmurs when he turns the page. Her hand goes to his knee; he starts, surprised, wide eyes turning to her. "How are you doing?"

"Great," Omen lies, his voice too pitchy.

Her hand tightens reassuringly. "You're the badass who tracked down those keys, remember? In Russia, you were the one who distracted Abyssinia so I could hold her off."

Omen's expression softens a bit, and he nods. "Right. I can do stuff sometimes."

"Believe in yourself," Auger smiles, reaching around Never to gently punch his twin's arm. "We'll all be fine. We're going to find that book, we're going to get it away from the crazy people, and then we find them, kill them, and save the world. Easy."

"Unless they find us first," Melancholia adds in; Wreath scowls at her, but her hood obscures her vision.

Omen does his best to ignore her, smiling at his brother, and then at Valkyrie. "We've got this." He sounds a little more sure of himself. Valkyrie worries that she might have made a mistake in heartening him so much.

Skulduggery, however, cheerfully adds, "Yes we do. And if we don't, at least we won't be around to become enslaved with the masses."

Omen blanches; Valkyrie tosses a glare at Skulduggery and pats Omen's knee. "We'll be fine if we're careful," she says, going against her best judgement and further soothing the boy. Omen doesn't look reassured, though, so Valkyrie decides that her words haven't caused too much harm.

"We're coming up on the farm," Ghastly calls back to them. Tanith isn't leaning on him anymore - she's ramrod straight, holding her sword between her knees, a thumb running across the hilt.

Valkyrie smiles at the boys, removing her hand from Omen's knee. Her heart thrums in her chest. This might be the last time she speaks with any of them about anything other than surviving.

"Hey," she murmurs. Wreath glances at her; he looks as if he doesn't expect her to be talking to him. "Thanks, for...everything."

Wreath doesn't seem to know what to do with that. He eventually nods, a single movement, sincere and appreciative. "It was my pleasure to train you, Valkyrie."

"It wasn't, but I love that you're trying."

Wreath smiles, a little glimmer of the Cleric she knew, the Cleric who praised and scolded her in equal measures. The Cleric who tried everything he could to calm her - and Darquesse. The Cleric who keeps coming back to her when she calls his name.

He loves her. Valkyrie isn't sure how deep the affection goes, if it was merely because he saw her as their saviour, their glorious Death Bringer.

He doesn't apologise for Alice, but he's done that already. And Alice is home with her parents right this moment, playing with Xena or coercing their father into a second piece of cake.

Valkyrie shakes her head. "I don't apologise very well," she admits.

"You do not," Wreath acknowledges.

"I'm sorry, Solomon."

Wreath's face shifts for a moment; saying his name means more than any apology she can give, it seems.

She turns to Melancholia next, not sure what to say but desperately needing to say something. "Thank you for helping me."

Melancholia sighs and lowers her hood. "I'm not doing this for you, Cain; I'm doing this for your sister. She helped me, so I am returning the favour."

"Then thank you for helping Alice," Valkyrie amends.

Melancholia's eyes meet and hold hers. And then she murmurs, "I'm glad I didn't go to your house and kill your entire family, but I am still on the fence about you."

"Fair enough," Valkyrie nods.

The van bumps off the road. Valkyrie's heart stammers as they slow, as they park. Her chest is about to erupt, she knows it.

Skulduggery moves before the rest of them, opening the door and standing aside to let everyone file out. Fletcher is already here, standing on the porch with a frown.

Skulduggery glances around. "Wreath, where are-"

And then figures emerge, shadow-walking to join them near the house, hidden from the road. There are four of them, all dressed in robes and pulsing with shadow.

"Well?" Wreath asks one of them.

"There is no one on the immediate grounds. Drake is putting wards along the treeline, so we should be able to dampen her magic. Ours, as well, but..."

Wreath nods, turning his attention back to Skulduggery. "Shall we divvy up the responsibilities, then?"

Skulduggery doesn't remind him about the plan they discussed in the morning. Valkyrie thinks it might be because these words might be the last. "Tanith, Wreath, Melancholia - secure the far side of the field. Take two of your Necromancers and Never with you. Omen, Auger - you're with me in the house."

"I should look for the book," Auger frowns. This part of the plan has changed somewhere along the way.

"You should stay in the house, protected and in my line of sight." Skulduggery looks at the rest of them. "The other three Necromancers stay with us."

Valkyrie straightens a bit. "Well, the rest of you are with me on book-duty until China deigns to grace us with her presence." Ghastly nods; Fletcher looks tired, resigned.

"Don't die," Skulduggery adds to all of them. "And if you hear a gunshot, assume things have gone terribly wrong."

The people begin filtering out, but Tanith loiters for a moment, pressing a kiss to Ghastly's mouth and smiling coquettishly. "Unlike Skulduggery, I am sure _you_ know what I want to do when we finish this."

"Dinner?" Ghastly kids her, and she laughs.

Valkyrie turns her gaze away, giving them a moment. Skulduggery comes to her. "You seem nervous," he unhelpfully points out.

"I'm about to look pissed unless you say something sweet."

"That's not our style, is it?" But he draws her to him. Valkyrie's fingers smooth across the back of his expertly-tailored suit, feeling the strange magic that gives him substance.

"I guess not," she admits. She pulls back only enough to caress a hand over Skulduggery's jaw. "Besides, everything is going to be fine. Alice's vision had Abyssinia attacking us at midday - surely a last-minute, unplanned nighttime arrival won't be noticed."

Skulduggery chuckles, kissing her forehead before pulling back. "Stay safe, will you? I might not be around to save the day."

"Same back at you," she smirks, pulling free while she still has some semblance of professionalism. "See you soon."

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie is close to a complete meltdown. China buried the book months ago, and it is proving challenging to identify where it might be without the woman. "Take your time, China," Valkyrie mutters while they scan through the treeline again. "Not like the damned thing's important."

Ghastly touches the ground; Valkyrie watches the earth rumble, the soft tremor shivering through her boots. "Can you...?" she asks, and Ghastly frowns at her.

"I could if needed, but earth magic is...complicated. Unpredictable. I am just as likely to rip another tectonic plate into existence as find this book."

"Of course," Fletcher sighs from where he keeps watch.

"Okay, final resort, then," Valkyrie mumbles, turning circles, searching for something.

The first pulse hits and Valkyrie falls to her knees. Ghastly grunts and Fletcher wavers on his feet. "Jesus," the teleporter mumbles.

Valkyrie feels the ping from the book. It's to their right. She gets to her feet and stumbles toward the slight crackle of power before it can fully fade. "Here!" she calls, toeing a deep furrow over the area before returning to them to grab one of the shovels.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery watches the window, crouched down and out of sight. The darkening night is making this more difficult on the others - he's surprised Omen hasn't asked for a torch yet. But Omen works tirelessly, circling the house, laying down as many wards as he can.

The first pulse of the night occurs; the wards around the house dampen it, but Omen isn't skilled enough to fully resist the power. Auger grunts and looks out the back window, frowning. "What's taking them so long?"

"Without China, they're left to their own devices."

"I can help them," Auger insists - not for the first time.

"You will do no such thing. At this moment, your sole job is to sit quietly and focus on not dying before you face Abyssinia. Focus on not dying when you face her, too, but for this moment - silence."

Auger clenches his jaw; Skulduggery expects another annoyed outburst - _I'm the chosen one - I should be out there helping!_ \- but he thankfully stays quiet.

Skulduggery turns his attention to the window. A vehicle approaches, going slow, headlights off. Skulduggery grabs his gun, pressing himself against the wall a little more, peering out. He relaxes almost immediately, putting his pistol away and rising to retrieve his jacket and hat. "It's China and the Cleavers."

"Smooth sailing from here," Omen says, stepping into the house. His brow is sweat-speckled with his concentration.

Skulduggery makes it to the porch before the van door opens. He freezes when Abyssinia steps out, flecked in blood. She smiles, tossing her hair back from her shoulders. Her ozone children are dark coils around her, seething.

Caisson steps out behind. He is fresh-faced, youthful, but his body still shows signs of malnutrition, of pain. He favours his left side, unable to hide the slight tilt to his body, the way his elbow tucks in against his ribs, shielding them.

Skulduggery raises his gun, firing into the air — the second speeds toward Abyssinia's forehead.

Her corruption, the creatures oozing from her, rise to block the attack. Abyssinia smiles; Caisson doesn't react.

 

* * *

 

Tanith and the two Necromancers, Garotte and Torpid, walk the far perimeter, ensuring they are alone. Melancholia and Wreath keep watch on the road, waiting.

"Terrible luck, this timing," Wreath murmurs. "If Abyssinia waited two weeks, none of this would have happened."

Melancholia doesn't look concerned. "Whatever happens tonight, our Death Bringer will save this world - there is nothing to fear, Cleric."

Wreath doesn't like her tone, but he doesn't reprimand her - they might all die, after all. "We may finally have our Death Bringer, Melancholia, but he is still preparing. Abyssinia might kill him before he can bring about the Passage." He pauses. "Lord Vile might kill him."

Melancholia scoffs. "Lord Vile is long dead."

"Evil has a way of rising when we least expect it. It seems to happen more often than not when we are on the precipice of saving the world."

"Have you no faith in our saviour, Cleric?"

"I have no end to my faith, Melancholia, and I will remind you never to question that again." Melancholia doesn't react. Wreath continues, "In addition to my faith, I also have a very healthy level of paranoia."

A burst of energy flares through Wreath and he hisses; Melancholia stumbles and grabs his arm to stabilise herself. "It's beginning," she murmurs.

Tanith returns with the Necromancers, her chest rising and falling with adrenaline. "Right," she says, practically vibrating with her excitement. "I am going to check on Val's progress with the book. Never?" she calls; the teen begins to approach from where he was wandering, mentally mapping the farm.

Just before Tanith touches Never's arm, a gunshot rips through the air. And then another one.

"Nevermind," Tanith breathes. "Sounds like I'm needed elsewhere. Necromancers, stay here; make sure nothing sneaks up on us."

A shout echoes through the air - four more gunshots, and then silence.

"Lovely," Wreath murmurs.

 

* * *

 


	16. Come Out...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Sixteen, in which the tides shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: Character Deaths.

* * *

 

Valkyrie is close to exhaustion already, her shoulders and biceps aching with the digging.

When the first gunshot echoes, she, Ghastly, and Fletcher freeze. "Guys," Fletcher mumbles. "Guys, that van isn't the Cleavers."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Valkyrie chants, speeding up as the second shot cracks through the air. Ghastly shakes his head and pushes her back from him, from the metre-deep hole. "Fletcher, get her out of here."

"Ghastly-" but she breaks off because the look on his face tells her he is sure, that he really wants to do this. "Be safe," she finishes, and Ghastly sadly smiles at her.

Fletcher grabs Valkyrie's hand, and they are suddenly on Ghastly's shop roof, staring out over Dublin. "Fletch, what...?" Fletcher doesn't let go of her hand, even when she attempts to pull free. "Fletcher," she tries, assuming that he's nervous. "Fletch, everything is going to be fine."

"We could leave. You and me."

"You don't want that."

"Oh, there's very little I want more at this particular moment." Valkyrie tightens her grip on his hand, reassuring, and he nods. "I know. Who's going to save the day if it isn't us?"

Valkyrie isn't prepared for the kiss he pulls her into, but she supposes she should be. She yanks back, shaking her head, and he nods again. "Yeah...I just figured, might die in a few minutes, might as well try."

"Take us back," she requests. They wink out of existence, and then back in as Fletcher brings her to the treeline.

The immediate terrain is a crater, not unlike the one in Russia.

"I hope this goes better than last time," she murmurs, glancing around, trying to find Ghastly.

And then she finds him, on the ground, bleeding. She starts to yell for Fletcher, but fingers close on her neck. She flails, the hand tossing her down onto fallen trees, and Fletcher shouts.

"Go!" she yells to him, turning over with a grunt. "Keep Auger safe!"

Fletcher disappears. Caisson, looking healthier and full of rage, stares down at Valkyrie.

For some reason, she says, "Hi there."

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery will never admit it, but - for a split second, nothing more than a breath of time - he is scared. Really, truly afraid - fearful to the point where it takes him much longer than it should to meet her.

Abyssinia.

She's distinctive in person - her astral-self is a perfect replication, but there's something much different about having her in real life. She sucks the air out of lungs with a single look from those captivating eyes.

He raises his gun, thumbs the hammer, pulls the trigger.

His first shot goes into the air - the creatures block his second. Omen shouts, ducking into the house to protect his brother. Two of the next bullets hit her - the other two sail past when she ducks and slithers, moving toward him too quickly, too fluidly. She strikes him across the skull with an open palm; it sends him to his backside. He raises his empty gun, thinking of chucking it at her, but Abyssinia kicks his elbow; his arm deadens. She thumps the butt of his pistol; it flies away, skittering into the darkening gloom.

Shadows converge as three Necromancers rush in to assist Skulduggery. Abyssinia tosses the closest one across the field - Skulduggery can hear the Necromancer screaming as her bones crunch with the impact. The second one receives a kick to the knee, and then a dislocated hand. She puts her boot down on the man's neck and then grabs the third.

She places her hand on the Necromancer's chest, presses her lips to his mouth, and he sags.

Dead.

He falls to the ground; Abyssinia drinks the soul before doing the same to the sorcerer under her foot.

"Why?" Skulduggery asks her. It's unnecessary, taking these lives.

She raises a brow at him, tossing the second spent body to the ground. She doesn't reply, but she does consider him for long enough that the first Necromancer - boasting a broken arm and a gashed forehead - sneaks in. She snares Abyssinia's feet and trips her to the ground; shadows pin the woman.

Abyssinia finally smiles. She goes very still; the Necromancer, too young and brash, comes in for a killing blow.

"Get back!" Skulduggery shouts, finally shaking himself out of his lackadaisical staring.

Another pulse ripples through the air - the Necromancer's shadows flare, pressing in on Abyssinia, but Abyssinia keeps smiling. She waits until the Necromancer is right beside her, is about to slit her neck with a dagger.

And then she is moving. Abyssinia breaks the shadows with no effort, grabbing the Necromancer as she gets to her feet. Skulduggery throws himself at her, tries to knock the Necromancer free from Abyssinia. Abyssinia strikes Skulduggery with her free elbow, cracking it across his skull with more force than she should be able to muster. Abyssinia tosses the Necromancer; she hits the van and crumples, not moving.

Skulduggery falls back, catches himself on the railing of the farmhouse, and ducks under Abyssinia's follow-up punch. He rushes at her, hoping to take her by surprise, but she swirls around him, tossing him to the ground with less effort than swatting a fly.

Abyssinia moves toward him; he sweeps her feet from beneath her, but she only stumbles for a brief moment, hauling Skulduggery up and tossing him back against the house. He luckily misses the hole in the wall, using the surface to bounce off and lunge at Abyssinia. She furrows her brows and ducks beneath his reach, shoving him back again.

This time he does go through the wall, shattering another section of the house. Abyssinia follows, but Skulduggery can tell her attention is wavering. She isn't interested in him - she keeps frowning toward the treeline, toward the fresh crater that rocked the land only moments before.

Skulduggery lashes out, a kick landing against the side of her knee - Abyssinia grunts, stumbling into the wall, and glares.

He gets to his feet and feints a reach for her right arm. He ducks under her swing, slamming a fist into her sternum and shoving her back against the aged window. The glass cracks under her head, and she snarls. Skulduggery gives another shove, and she breaks through it. Her body awkwardly falls over the sill, her back slicing across the glass as she does, leaving trails of dark, oozing corruption in her wake.

Skulduggery follows her out, skirting a kick and grabbing the leg, twisting it. Abyssinia's knee pulls out under the force, and she hisses. The pollution, the darkness that Abyssinia's followers supplied to bring her back, swirls around her leg, repairing. He snaps it again, and she howls - the corruption surges within her veins.

Abyssinia's yell isn't the only one - Skulduggery starts when he hears Valkyrie's voice, panicked and pained, shrill from the forest.

Abyssinia smiles; she doesn't try to get away from him. She waits, watches.

Skulduggery, torn between Abyssinia and Valkyrie, hesitates for a moment too long. It's unlike him to get distracted from the real mission. He's lost friends before, choosing the world over them if necessary. But this time.

The air pops, and Skulduggery hears Tanith shouting, coming in for an attack.

Abyssinia lurches into action, ripping her foot from his grip, grabbing his tie with one hand, and wrenches him to the ground. She hits his cervical spine, and the vertebrae crack. Another hit to his skull rattles something that doesn't exist.

Abyssinia fakes fatigue, drawing Tanith in. Abyssinia then sends an elbow into Tanith's belly; the blonde stumbles back, coughing. Abyssinia gets off of him, grabbing Tanith's sword and plunging it into Tanith's stomach.

Abyssinia drops the sword, turns on her heel, and begins to follow the sound of Valkyrie's cries. Creatures leak from her fingers as she walks - the ozone-scented darkness churns across the grass, surging in all directions.

Including Skulduggery and Tanith's.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie can't breathe because Lord Vile's son has a knee crunching into her chest while he takes her ring from her finger, tossing it to the side. It lands close to Ghastly's raw, beaten form. The tailor is trying to get up, fumbling at the torn ground, knees giving out beneath him.

Valkyrie compartmentalises the horror and tries to struggle, but each wiggle makes the knee press in, restricting her chest.

"Valkyrie!"

Valkyrie hisses; her head wrenches painfully, but she catches sight of Fletcher - back for some reason - and Auger. Auger clicks his fingers, flame erupting, but Valkyrie can't let him stay. "Get him out! Now!" she wheezes with her last bit of breath. She hopes he listened - she thinks he did because Caisson glances toward where Fletcher and Auger were standing. He seems disinterested in them either way, returning his gaze to Valkyrie.

And then his knee is gone, and Valkyrie can somewhat breathe, can somehow think.  _'Kes..._  Her vision blurs, goes dim. Even so, she can see Ghastly, her saviour, and Caisson.

Ghastly's too weak - his punches do nothing, most deflected as easily as if Caisson is swatting a fly. But he isn't planning on killing the man, Valkyrie realises when Ghastly's wet eyes find hers. He's trying to save her, to give her time to get away. "Run!" Ghastly shouts, ducking a strike from the silver-haired man, stumbling, falling to the rent earth with a howl of pain.

Valkyrie tries - she tries so hard. But Caisson, finally bored with the distraction, grabs her. She is off of her feet, hurled through the air, and smacks into a still-standing tree. She feels her leg snap when she lands on it; she screams, and Caisson's lips twitch at the side when he comes to kneel beside her.

Ghastly is there again, but Caisson's smile doesn't drop when he reaches out and takes Ghastly off of his feet with a simple punch to his knee. Ghastly doesn't stop trying to get up - Caisson doesn't stop putting him back down.

Caisson's hand returns to Valkyrie, smoothing through her hair before fisting, yanking. He uses the fistful to slam her head into the tree behind her.

"'Kes," she mumbles - thinks she mumbles. "'Kes, please."

Caisson tosses her again; the landing shakes something loose, makes something in her vision shift. She struggles across the torn grass, army-crawling with one leg trailing behind at an angle, and reaches out for the Necromancer ring. She's close. So close.

She yelps when Caisson grasps her hair and flings her onto her back. Caisson wrenches one of her arms from its socket. She yells; the sound warbles through the farm, echoing, overwhelming everything else.

Caisson departs, but only because Ghastly has wrestled him to the ground, pinning him in a chokehold, his arms pulsing with the effort. "Run!" he repeats when he meets Valkyrie's streaming eyes. But his gaze is pulled away from her, roving behind her.

His eyes widen. He's scared. He's terrified.

Abyssinia chuckles from behind Valkyrie, and Valkyrie's blood runs cold.

Abyssinia moves in that way of hers - changing direction so quickly that it looks like a blur, like she's shadow walking without shadow. A hand closes around Ghastly's smooth dome and, just as she did with Skulduggery all those months ago, she squeezes.

The skull crushes - Valkyrie shrieks.

Abyssinia frowns a little, tossing blood and matter from her fingers with a flick of her wrists. Valkyrie finally begins to move, creeping backwards, feeling with her one functioning arm, fumbling for her ring. It's close - she knows it's close.

Her hand closes around it at the same time that Abyssinia grabs her neck, tossing her further up the property. Valkyrie gasps through a broken rib, leg, and dislocated shoulder. She tries to slide the ring onto her finger and misses, dropping it; the pain in her head and her obscured vision are making everything dreamlike.

Nightmare-like.

"Valkyrie!"

Valkyrie doesn't look up, but she can hear Skulduggery yelling for her. Valkyrie doesn't look up, but she doesn't need to - Abyssinia descends on her; Valkyrie's head thwacks into the mud.

In her last second, Valkyrie grabs the chain around her neck, snapping it off. The lapis lazuli ring slips onto her trembling forefinger.

Abyssinia grabs Valkyrie's throat and yanks her up. Valkyrie doesn't understand what's happening at first. Abyssinia's left hand touches Valkyrie's chest, right above her thrumming heart. Abyssinia's mouth meets Valkyrie's.

 

* * *

 

Her life is something special - Abyssinia assumed as much, but it's very different when the essence is sliding between them, when the first dregs meet Abyssinia's tongue. She wishes she could savour this moment, the feel of that beating heart slowing under her hand, the soul, the essence, the very being that was once Valkyrie Cain becoming part of her.

But then Valkyrie gnashes her teeth down on Abyssinia's lip; she howls, falling back, hand on her torn skin. The husk is somehow alive and is somehow smirking at her.

 _The thing._ Abyssinia freezes for a moment, the essence cold in her mouth, her throat. Valkyrie is gone, but Darquesse is still there, still in the body.

"What are you?" Abyssinia asks - not for the first time - and Darquesse grins.

"Let's find out."

Darquesse's hand slams into Abyssinia's cheek, a power-slap that feels as if it might snap her neck. Abyssinia stumbles back, but Darquesse lunges with inhuman speed, somehow keeping up with Abyssinia's retreat. She catches Abyssinia by the arm, wrenches her to the ground with her healed limbs, and then thrusts Abyssinia's head into the muck.

"Give her back," she orders; another hit forces Abyssinia's mouth open, a few extra bits of essence returning to Valkyrie's body. To the thing wearing her skin.

Abyssinia tries to fight her off, but her power is overwhelming. The ring pressing against Abyssinia's cheek burns like fire. She screams, more of Valkyrie returning, seeping into Darquesse's eyes, her snarling, howling lips.

Darquesse cracks into Abyssinia's chest; her cropped nails somehow tear through Abyssinia's skin as if it is wet tissue. The corruption running through her veins tries to keep Darquesse out, just as it had in Russia, but Darquesse has no limits, no scruples.

Darquesse is what Abyssinia used to be, the woman realises with a mix of amusement and horror. Darquesse is Abyssinia's wet-dream of herself.

Darquesse finds the essence in Abyssinia's throat, darting like a school of frantic fish. It returns, and Darquesse pauses. She presses her hand against Abyssinia's heart, ignoring the cracked ribs that try to tear her protective jacket from her. "It takes a lot to keep that rottenness healing you, doesn't it?" she asks suddenly. "It's almost like someone perfected a zombie," she muses aloud, a finger roughly poking against Abyssinia's heart. Abyssinia doesn't feel it, doesn't even realise it happened.

"Your heart still beats - did you know that?" Darquesse asks, poking the organ again. "It's interesting...who did this to you? Brought you back, I mean. Necromancers, I'd assume."

Darquesse freezes for a moment, glancing up toward the sky. "Welcome back," she says - it takes Abyssinia a moment to realise that Darquesse isn't talking to her. Abyssinia gasps for breath, the lethargic corruption wrapping around Darquesse's arm, trying to get the invader away. "I thought you were a goner," Darquesse continues. "In hindsight, I probably should have just left you dead, kept the body, and went on my merry way. _But..._ you inside her seems a little too cruel, you know? Anyway." Her hand tightens around the heart, vices, and Abyssinia feels it this time. She yelps and Darquesse giggles.

The giggle cuts off when another pulse rips around them, forcing Darquesse to double over, incapacitated for a few seconds. Abyssinia uses the moment to lash out, her foot catching Darquesse's side. The pollution in her veins gets to work, slowly healing all of the agonies.

Caisson strides toward them. Abyssinia nods to him; he passes, heading toward the van where a bound-and-gagged China Sorrows - and Lord Vile's armour - wait.

Abyssinia smiles and turns, catching Darquesse's fist and twisting. The bones break, mend, and break again when she repeats the motion. Darquesse's second hand slams into Abyssinia's still-tender ribs and she grunts, tossing the woman back from her.

Darquesse wastes no time in returning, ducking under a reach and bringing her knee up into the ribs. She dances away, keeping on the balls of her feet, and lands a kick to Abyssinia's calf. Darquesse spins her other leg around to buckle Abyssinia's knee.

And then Darquesse backs off, catching on. Her head tilts to the side, considering, before she smiles.

She's running before Abyssinia gets to her feet. Darquesse makes it across the yard in no time at all, and then she's grabbing Caisson, hauling his arm around, shoving her hand into Caisson's chest.

The skin rips and tears; the bones crunch. Abyssinia watches her son flail, fight, scrabble his fingers across Daquesse's face. He pummels against her arms, but they don't stay broken for long. Caisson can't burst free from her, not with how weak Mevolent's dimension made him.

Abyssinia watches her son die as Darquesse plucks his heart from his chest. Abyssinia watches him unravel like a bolt of cloth, skin sloughing off as Darquesse rips at him, savages him.

"Goodnight, sweet Prince," Abyssinia murmurs with a faint smile, hoping that she is right about the book. "Awake a King."

 

* * *

 


	17. ...and Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seventeen, in which the tides turn and collide.

* * *

 

"You still haven't found it?!" Omen shouts to them as he runs toward Never.

"Dig," Never snaps, shoving the trowel at him and disappearing for a moment. The west side of the property crawls with little horrors, the sharp-smelling ozone creatures that Fletcher nearly lost an arm to in Russia. "Hey!" Never shouts as he runs toward the five figures there. "Hey, we need help!"

Wreath sees him first and grabs Melancholia's arm. They reach for him, and Never takes their hands. They reappear in the treeline - Valkyrie is managing to distract the silver-haired woman further up the property, giving them a bit more time.

"We know it's here-" Never begins, but then falters when the air prickles. "Pulse!" he calls a warning.

The throb of sudden power hits Melancholia, and she snaps, "Stand back!" She doesn't wait to ensure they move - she sweeps her hands down, razor-sharp shadows digging into the earth and upturning it, tossing clay and silt, dirt and mud.

A case - covered in China's sigils - lands among the wreckage of earth. Inside, without a doubt, sits the book.

"Oh my God," Omen whispers. They found it. They finally found it.

Auger grabs the box, and then Fletcher grabs him. "Ready?" he asks.

"Hold on," Auger breathes. He stretches his hand out to his brother; Omen, not hesitating at all, takes it. Before the three of them disappear, Auger offers Omen a grin. "See? Saving the world is easy."

They wink out of existence.

 

*******

 

They warp back to the west side of the property. The Necromancers continue to hold the squirming, fanged masses back in spite of them never dying.

"Shield Omen as best you can!" Fletcher calls to the Necromancers before thrusting the box at Omen's chest. "China isn't here - this is on you."

"No pressure," Omen tries to joke from behind wide eyes and dry lips.

"That's the spirit," Fletcher sighs; he returns to Auger, who is twisting the cloaking sphere Skulduggery gave him for this precise moment. He tosses it toward Omen, and the boy seemingly disappears.

Fletcher grabs Auger's elbow, and then they are gone again.

 

*******

 

Valkyrie's house is quiet - she took Xena to her folks' place, so Fletcher and Auger aren't bothered when they appear in the foyer. They run, as one, to the cellar door and, beyond that, into the caves.

They make it half a kilometre in before the first monster appears. Auger dispatches the thing with fire, but the flames sputter up and around, illuminating all of the other monsters staring out at them from the dripping stone.

Fletcher almost teleports them ahead, and then remembers Valkyrie's warnings about pitfalls. He knows it's going to be easier to get the book to safety if they scout it ahead of time, but now that they're here... "Please tell me you can fly?" he tries, fingers beginning to sweat. Maybe, just maybe...

"Ah...no, haven't figured that one out yet, sorry. I can glide, though?"

"Damnit," Fletcher groans. Why hadn't they done this in the morning when Valkyrie was here?

Fletcher begins to run, Auger right at his heels.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery trips after Abyssinia as she moves toward Valkyrie, as they fight one another, slipping in the mud and breaking bones, hissing and snarling like feral cats.

Skulduggery tosses a flame toward Abyssinia, but she ignores him. He uses the air to rush toward them, but Valkyrie - _Darquesse,_ he realises - breaks free from Abyssinia and runs toward the road. Skulduggery doesn't let himself get distracted - he strikes at Abyssinia, using the air to push himself toward her.

A pulse hits. Abyssinia laughs, unconcerned, and Skulduggery tumbles past her, overwhelmed by the magic around them.

He looks up; Abyssinia glides toward the road, but not quickly. She's leisurely, unconcerned. Even though Darquesse has Caisson pinned, digging around in his chest, Abyssinia takes her time.

Caisson falls. Abyssinia laughs. Darquesse turns on her heel and looks perplexed.

Abyssinia darts toward Skulduggery - he finds his head crashing into the ground, and then Abyssinia flings him back to the house. A broken railing pierces his suit; the cloth absorbs as much damage as it can, but shards still scrape through the space that used to be his abdomen, abrading his pelvis and sending searing pain shooting through him.

Darquesse doesn't fare much better. Abyssinia, finally done with games, swats Darquesse to the ground and repeats the same motion, the same elbow swinging down, against Darquesse's chest. Darquesse screams when Abyssinia breaks her sternum. She goes limp when Abyssinia grabs her neck and wrenches her head.

Abyssinia gets off of the gurgling mess than is Darquesse, stepping over her and spiriting toward the van. She yanks China out, her bound-and-gagged body rigid. Bloody furrows scrape across her skin, marring sigils.

The case of armour follows China's body. Abyssinia drags the trunk to Caisson while Darquesse struggles to get up, struggles to finish mending herself.

"One last job, love," Abyssinia murmurs to the body of her son, "and then this will be all over." She takes his hand and presses it to the case.

His body writhes with electricity, with the curse Omen etched onto the locking mechanism. It covers him, burns into him, searing flesh.

The case opens. Abyssinia spills the armour onto the ground and smiles as Darquesse gets to her feet.

"You only wanted to use him," Darquesse accuses, but she sounds more amused than upset. "Why didn't you have him open the case before, then? Are you stupid or malicious?"

"The second," Abyssinia replies. She spreads her arms at the woman, closing her eyes. "There is no end to my spite...and there is no end to my love for Caisson."

"Odd way of showing it," Skulduggery grunts, finally managing to draw himself to his feet, to stumble toward them. He catches a flicker of movement out of the corner of his vision. Fletcher and Auger are on the porch, the book in Auger's hand, a knife in Fletcher's.

Darquesse doesn't look in their direction, doesn't give away their presence; she steps toward Abyssinia, talking as she moves. "Are you planning on fighting us, or standing there?"

"At the moment, I fancy standing here."

China writhes against her bindings on the ground; her eyes are wrong when they meet Skulduggery's. She's openly terrified, and that is not something Skulduggery has planned for.

Darquesse doesn't notice, doesn't flick her gaze toward the woman or the men on the porch, doesn't acknowledge that Fletcher is drawing the knife along Auger's palm and Auger's blood flows onto the book.

Auger begins to shout - Skulduggery tries to put the pieces together, but it's taking too long. Abyssinia grins, wolfish, and sends a stream of darkness out, her creatures crashing into Fletcher, overrunning him.

Darquesse reaches Abyssinia and rakes her nails across the woman's face, tears an arm off, bites her jugular out.

Abyssinia doesn't fight, doesn't move. She merely smiles while Fletcher screams and Auger, horrified, shouts for Never.

Abyssinia breaks free, neck still leaking corruption, and tears her way across the few metres toward Auger. With less than a thought, she tosses him across the yard; he lands on Caisson's chest. He struggles to get up, crying out, "Get the book out of here! It's not-"

Skulduggery moves. Darquesse moves. Abyssinia moves faster. She swats her attackers aside before descending on Auger, tearing his skin from his skull. She crushes the bone beneath her fingers, gore running between her hands and onto her son's chest.

"Thank you, my pets," she whispers with a reverent smile, eyes scanning over the scant words on the open page of the book. She swats her attackers aside. Using her long nails, she tears through her right wrist, digging down to the bone.

She doesn't heal — the darkness inside of her leaks onto her son. Her blood mingles with Caisson and Auger's; she chuckles weakly, eyes turning up to Skulduggery. "Love made you stupid."

When she collapses, the corruption seeps into Caisson. The armour's shadows flood across the dead man, rippling into his eyes and parted lips. The heart Darquesse ripped from his chest doesn't move, doesn't beat, but Caisson still sits up.

Skulduggery doesn't wait to figure out what is happening - he lunges at the man who might be his son, sending a kick to his face. Caisson accepts the blow, still unmoving, unblinking.

He stares at China. Caisson tilts his head, the motion so much like Skulduggery's, and frowns. China's eyes glisten with tears; she tries to move toward him, but her scooting only results in her falling to the mud.

Another hit from Skulduggery rocks across the back of Caisson's neck. A flame-wrapped fist pummels into the man's head, smashing down, but Caisson barely shows sign of noticing.

A pulse rips through the land; Caisson jolts and the armour comes to him of its own volition. It slithers into place, cloaking him, hiding his ruined face and body from view.

Skulduggery stumbles back; he finds Valkyrie, not Darquesse, on her knees, tearing at the darkness overrunning Fletcher, gasping through the influx of power. Skulduggery helps her and then hoists them up when the corruption is merely liquid at their boots.

Fletcher weakly teleports them to the far end of the road. They teleport in and out, showing up at different areas around the land, but their collective eyes never leave Caisson.

Teleport. Caisson gets to his feet, writhing in shadow. Teleport. Caisson reaches out to China. Teleport. His hand wraps around the woman's throat, dragging her to her feet. Teleport.

He's gone; China is on the ground again, shoulders jumping with muted cries.

 

* * *

 

Ghastly is dead, taken from them without a word, without so much as a whisper. Auger fell, done in by those who swore to protect him. All five Necromancer allies are gone, too. Not to mention the Cleavers Abyssinia ambushed on their way to the farm.

Valkyrie can't think about it. She can't think about what happened, because suddenly they have made things worse again. _No good deed goes unpunished._

She went to Grouse's clinic after the fight - not for her injuries, of which there were few, but to keep an eye on Tanith and Omen. She stayed the night in the room next to Tanith's, anxiously waiting to hear when the woman awoke, when she asked about Ghastly.

When Valkyrie wakes up, sprawled out on a cot in one of the medical suites, she finds Alice at her side. The girl smiles when Valkyrie sits up. "Hey," Alice grins.

Valkyrie's eyes widen. She reaches across the bed and grabs Alice, tugging her up to the mattress and into Valkyrie's arms. "What happened?" she asks against the blonde girl's hair.

"I woke up this morning, and I could talk."

Valkyrie lets out a breath. "So her orders died with her."

"Oh, you think?" Alice laughs, and Valkyrie tickles her arm.

"I forgot what a sassy little thing you are."

"I learned from the best," she smiles, tilting her face to press into Valkyrie's collarbone.

"You learned from my Reflection...not really the same thing."

"Not your Reflection, you idiot. _You._ Your Reflection was part of the family, but she wasn't you. Isn't you. None of us ever thought she was." Valkyrie swallows down the lump in her throat. Alice takes the moment to whisper, "Tanith's awake. She isn't really talking much."

Valkyrie hates herself all over again. "I thought she was finally going to get that happily-ever-after we always got in Dad's stories. Regal Stabby the Lion, off on another adventure, always moving toward the sunset."

Alice doesn't say anything for a moment. Then - "It wasn't your fault. This or...before. The break-up."

Valkyrie shakes her head and looks at the flat, too-white wall. "Mum and Dad told you, then?"

"A couple of years ago."

Valkyrie wraps her arms a little tighter. "I'm sorry for driving her away."

"It happens," Alice says, too wise and kind for her eleven years. "People change. At least, that's what Mum said."

"Mum's smart like that."

Skulduggery and Kenspeckle interrupt their conversation; Kenspeckle bustles in, tutting about Valkyrie taking up one of his best rooms. Skulduggery waits at the door, silent, regarding them.

"Well, Miss Edgley," Kenspeckle murmurs, helping her down from the bed. "Are you ready?"

"Ready?" Valkyrie repeats.

Alice's smile is brilliant. "I think it's about time I see again, don't you?"

 

* * *

 

Tanith wraps herself in three blankets. The cold in her bones won't leave, radiating out and around her, chilling everything. She closes her eyes and counts to ten. And then to twenty.

By the time she reaches one-thousand, Valkyrie comes into the room. She loiters by the door; her gaze is exhausted, a million years older than she is.

Tanith scoots over on the bed, just as she has done over and over. Valkyrie slips onto the bed and under the covers, her body impossibly warm against Tanith's.

Tanith sinks into her arms, face shoved into Valkyrie's neck. "I didn't...why didn't I consider this might happen? Aurora, and now Ghastly...I just...I don't know what to do, how to..." She breaks off, and then whispers, "Why do I keep living and everyone else..."

Valkyrie holds her, smoothing her hair from her face. She hums, slightly off-key but soothing. Tanith, for the first time in a long time, allows herself to cry.

 

* * *

 


	18. After the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eighteen, in which _Heroes to Villains_ concludes.

* * *

 

The Administrator leads them into a small chamber below the main halls of the Sanctuary. Inside, Valkyrie and Skulduggery find China Sorrows. A pair of glasses sit on the bridge of her nose while she inks sigils onto her skin.

"I thought you might come sooner," China murmurs, not bothering to look up. "To scold me."

"Scold you?" Valkyrie repeats.

"Do you have the book?" Skulduggery asks, not playing into China's words.

"Upstairs in my library."

"And?"

China finishes her work and finally glances up. "And you may retrieve it at your leisure, hide it away, whatever you need to do."

"Really?"

"I am done fighting you on this book, Valkyrie," China sighs, removing the glasses. She looks tired, much more tired than Valkyrie has ever seen her. "I want nothing to do with it."

Skulduggery doesn't take his gaze from China, even when Valkyrie pulls free to request the Administrator take her to the library. Once Valkyrie is gone, Skulduggery murmurs, "What happened?"

"Abyssinia ambushed the van," she shrugs as if it is nothing. "She killed the Cleavers, Caisson ruined my skin, tied me up, and you know the rest."

"I meant the book."

China gets to her feet, brushing down her black linen trousers. "The book transfers souls, but it is a bit more...specialised, I suppose you would say."

"There is a funeral we are attending in two hours, China, and I would much rather make it in time."

China smiles wanly. "The passage is short and sweet - instructional. It wasn't written to banish souls, to remove them and replace them in a host. Not entirely. It is to create a new creature out of the blood of a God. The creature will grow strong with all of the souls sacrificed to it."

"All of the souls."

"Including those Abyssinia took in up until that moment, yes."

"And Lord Vile's armour?"

China hesitates. "I...am not sure if that counts as a soul. He is wearing it, however, so I can't say that's a favourable development."

Skulduggery shakes his head while regarding China. "We played right into her hands."

"It seems so, yes."

Skulduggery waits, but China doesn't speak. "I thought you might like to say you told me so," he finally murmurs.

"No, Skulduggery...this fault lies with me. I should have killed Caisson when I had the chance."

"You love him."

"It is hard not to. I still consider him my son."

Skulduggery glances behind him at the door. "Are you coming to the funeral?"

"No." China returns to her seat and places the glasses on. "I doubt the Darkly family wishes to see me."

"I doubt they want to see any of us."

China pauses for a moment, and then her voice softens. "I'm sorry about Ghastly. He was a good man. One of the best."

"He was," Skulduggery replies. It's clipped - he hasn't been able to speak to Valkyrie about it yet, and he certainly isn't ready to talk to China.

China notices the hesitation and takes it gracefully. "I have work to be done. Get on with you."

So Skulduggery turns, retraces his steps, and finds Valkyrie waiting for him in the lobby. Fletcher has arrived, looking exhausted.

"Can you pick up Alice on your own?" Valkyrie asks. "Fletcher and I are off to drop the book at the altar."

"Of course," Skulduggery agrees. He walks with them until the carpark; Fletcher takes Valkyrie's hand, and they blink out of existence. Skulduggery gets into the Bentley, takes an unneeded breath, and heads toward Haggard.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie can't help it; when she steps into the altar room, she flips the book open. She types the short passage into a translator on her phone, ignoring Fletcher's pleas for them to go before monsters eat him.

She stares at the translation, and everything makes sense.

_The Creature rises as the blood of the God falls. The souls of the dead shall fill It - the clay of the earth shall seal It._

Valkyrie closes her eyes for a moment, taking a breath. All of the death, all of the loss, and for what?

Creating the King of the Darklands, evidently.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie touches Omen's arm once others begin to filter away from the Darkly family plot. Omen still looks lost, staring down into the hole, down toward the casket. His chin trembles occasionally, but no tears fall.

"Come on," Valkyrie whispers when Omen turns from the grave, from all it entails.

"I should...I should go home. My home, not...not my parents'."

Valkyrie takes his arm and turns the teen toward her. "I'll drop you off after. For now, ice cream."

Omen doesn't fight her; he lets her guide him into her car, the preposterous purple menace, his hands moving woodenly. Valkyrie waits for him to buckle his seatbelt, watching Skulduggery and Alice get into the Bentley across the cemetery's pathway.

The drive takes longer than it should. Valkyrie drives slow; Omen stares at his hands until they reach the river and the small ice cream stand by the water.

Omen's ice cream cone is large, but he doesn't seem too interested in it. He slackly licks, forgets about the treat, and then remembers when enough has melted to colour his fingers with sticky chocolate.

Valkyrie pokes at her small cup of ice cream, waiting. She can feel the pressure building in the air, Omen's impending emotional outpour coming closer to the surface. She stays quiet, watching the water and spooning vanilla into her mouth.

"What do we do now?" Omen asks finally, his voice so soft that Valkyrie almost misses it.

"I don't know yet," she admits. "We take each day at a time and keep looking."

"What do  _I_  do now?" Omen amends, and his voice trembles. "I don't...I don't know what to do without him. I've never..."

Valkyrie sets her cup down on the bench beside her, turning to face him. "Your brother didn't die with regrets."

"So?" Omen demands, cheeks flushing with his sudden fury. "So what if he died without regrets? _He's dead,_ Valkyrie! My brother, the saviour promised, is..." He trails off, tears glistening in his eyes. "Does this mean the world is over?"

Valkyrie wants to lie to him. "Maybe," she settles on, wrapping an arm around Omen's shoulders. "But, for now, it's a lovely day, and we have ice cream."

 

* * *

 

"Should I tell you my true name?" Alice asks when she, Valkyrie, and Skulduggery are finally alone in the Edgley's living room.

"No," Skulduggery says quickly. Valkyrie nods her agreement. "Never tell anyone."

"What if Caisson knows it?" Alice asks. "Won't it be better to have one of you counteract his orders, or...?"

"It doesn't work like that," Skulduggery murmurs. "The only way you are safe is if no one can find your name."

"Do you know how Abyssinia found it?" Valkyrie asks.

Alice shakes her head. "She didn't talk to me about those things. Just visions, really. Telling me what to focus on, what to look for." She pauses; her cloth-covered sockets turn, her eyeless gaze sweeping between them. "Do either of you know your true names?"

"No," Valkyrie murmurs.

Skulduggery echoes the word and then adds, "I am honestly unsure if I still have one. I did die, after all."

"Let's hope you don't," Valkyrie simpers. "Can you imagine the havoc you could wreak if someone were so inclined?"

"Skulduggery!" Melissa calls from the kitchen, "Come help me with this, will you?"

"Why can't I help?" they can hear Desmond groan. "I'm right here!"

"The last time I allowed you to carry something precious, you dropped her."

"Stephanie is _fine."_

"I meant Alice."

"Well, I dropped Stephanie way more."

Skulduggery chuckles and gets to his feet. He leaves the Edgley girls in the living room, and Alice perks up with a sneaky grin. "I have to show you something."

The blonde girl is on her feet and tearing up the steps. Valkyrie admires her, how she looks like any other eleven-year-old - minus the cloth over her eyes, of course. Valkyrie follows, finding the girl sitting at her desk in her bedroom. There are little sample baggies in front of her, all containing prosthetic eyes.

"Oh God," Valkyrie says without meaning to - a gaggle of glass eyes is not something she expected to see.

Alice laughs, sounding delighted, and plucks one of the eyes from its bag. It's a blue-purple, unnatural but gorgeous. "Mum thought I should get prosthetics...you know, since I can technically see."

"It would probably make your mortal life easier," Valkyrie admits. She picks up a blue eye - it's close to Alice's old colour, but it isn't quite right. "But what do _you_ want?"

"I don't know." Alice smiles and replaces the eye. "I'm okay, you know. You don't have to keep worrying that I might crack. It's fine."

Valkyrie glances at the door, ensuring no one is there, and then murmurs, "But Aurora..."

Alice shakes her head. "No. What happened to Aurora...I know it wasn't my fault. It was a means to an end for Abyssinia. _I_ was a means to an end."

She is taking it too well, and it concerns Valkyrie. "I should have been there. I should have protected you."

"You can't be with me every hour of every day," Alice laughs. She stands and begins to head toward the door. "Oh, I found a song I want you to hear. It's insane how much music you miss when you're held against your will for five months."

Valkyrie follows her but hesitates outside of her old bedroom. "Go on ahead; I need to check something." Alice continues down the steps, but Valkyrie pushes into her room.

She goes to the wardrobe before she can convince herself otherwise, undresses, and taps the glass. Her Reflection blinks out at her before slowly stepping into the room.

"Hello," it says. "Things have changed."

"That they have," Valkyrie murmurs, unnerved all over again. The Reflection is so real, so solid. Its eyes glisten like Valkyrie's; its lips turn down and up at the side. It's too realistic to be considered a product of uncanny valley. It's a human, through and through, and it knowingly smiles when she stares at it.

Valkyrie lets out a slow breath as she redresses. "Do you promise to stay at Alice's side, to protect her from everything, to die for her if you have to?"

"Dying is nothing to me," the Reflection replies. "And Alice is everything."

There it is - there is the look that scared Valkyrie enough to get rid of the Reflection years ago. It truly loves her parents, cherishes her little sister - would die to protect them.

"Get changed," she says. She turns her back to the Reflection - for some reason - and waits. When suitably covered in a tee that hugs its shoulders and arms, leggings that stretch over muscled thighs, Valkyrie turns to it. "I'll pick up some better fitting clothes tomorrow."

"I don't feel discomfort, but that might be wise," it acknowledges.

Valkyrie hates this. She hates seeing herself like this, in this husk. "Alright," she slowly says. "Let's shock the hell out of everyone."

Music spills from the living room. They arrive to find Skulduggery spinning Alice to the song while Desmond and Melissa watch on.

"Don't panic," she begins.

Desmond's eyes widen. "Is the Reflection back or am I having a stroke?" 

The Reflection tilts its head at him. "Hello, Father."

"Desmond," Valkyrie interrupts. "You call him Desmond."

"That will look suspicious if we are in public."

"I don't care - chalk it up to a late-stage rebellion."

Skulduggery glances between them. He removed his facade at some point, and now the skull considers them. Part of Valkyrie wishes that he kept the false skin on so that she could see his expression.

"Steph-" Melissa begins, but pauses when her daughter and her daughter's Reflection glance at her. "I...the original."

"You might want to start calling me something else," Valkyrie admits. "It doesn't have to be Valkyrie, but I'm pretty used to responding-"

"Oh! How about Mopsey?" Desmond suggests.

Valkyrie closes her eyes; the Reflection laughs beside her, and Valkyrie wants to strike it. It isn't the first time, and evidently it won't be the last, either. "No one is named Mopsey - for a good reason, might I add."

"Or," the Reflection murmurs from Valkyrie's elbow, "you can choose another name for me."

Valkyrie's skin prickles. Skulduggery's shoulders tighten, and Valkyrie shakes her head. "Don't give her a name."

"Are you worried I might become more of a person?" the Reflection asks, its lips quirking. It's a very familiar expression, one that Valkyrie gives Skulduggery often.

"Maybe. Or maybe you'll confuse everyone."

"Speaking of names," Skulduggery interrupts, turning back to Alice. "You still have yet to take one - that needs to happen."

"Tonight," Valkyrie adds.

Alice sighs as if annoyed, but she settles onto the couch between her parents. "Fine. But I need help."

"Helping is what we're good at," Valkyrie replies, sitting on the floor at the coffee table. Her Reflection retreats to the kitchen - probably for coffee. Valkyrie wants coffee, but she doesn't want to spend any more time with the Reflection than she has to.

"Cookie," Desmond suggests without any prompting. "Jellybean. Kettle."

Valkyrie scrunches her nose up, and Alice laughs. "Dad...no."

"Cutter? What about Cutter? That's cool."

"Cutter is terrible," Alice interrupts.

"What about...Meat Cleaver?"

Melissa turns her head toward him. "Stop naming items in our kitchen."

"I didn't even get to the best ones!"

Valkyrie hears her Reflection retreating upstairs; Valkyrie gets to her feet. "Coffee?" she asks - her mother agrees, so she heads into the kitchen to procure some.

Skulduggery follows her. She can feel him behind her, comforting like a warm breeze. "Thank you," she whispers.

Skulduggery doesn't ask her what she means - he knows. He wraps his arms around her from behind; he stoops to press his teeth against her neck. "We will solve this," he promises her.

He doesn't mean finding Alice a name. Neither does Valkyrie when she murmurs, "Hell or high water, right?"

"Naturally. It might be easier for me, seeing as I'm already dead, _and_ I can walk on water."

Valkyrie snorts, turning in his arms to look into his sockets, the hidden shadows swirling inside of him. "I have one other thing I'd like to say."

"Colour me intrigued."

Valkyrie can't keep her smile contained. "If I catch you with my Reflection, I will find a way to kill you."

His laughter booms through the kitchen, through her very soul, and she melts against him.

 

* * *

 

He watches the property. He stares at the lit windows, at the occasional shadow of someone inside passing by the pulled drapes.

A large, black car trundles up to the estate, and he snarls. He's seen the car before, of course - quite recently, even. He hadn't thought that the skeleton was quite so close to the girl, and yet...

The skeleton gets out of the car; the passenger side opens, and he seethes at the sight of her dark hair reflecting in the light spilling from her house. There's an air of sorrow around them, but the skeleton wraps an arm around the girl, murmuring something that makes her laugh.

He thinks about the best time to strike, but the front door opens. A boy with stupid hair stands in the doorway, and a dog tears out onto the lawn. The girl drops down to her knees and wrestles with the dog, who barks and flails on its back, tail wagging with so much force it might become airborne.

He shifts in the trees, barely making a noise, but the dog gets to its feet. Its scruff stands on end, and it begins to bark - loud, soul-rattling brays - toward the woods.

All heads swivel toward where he hides, but he doesn't move. He's outside of the charms on the land, hidden among the overgrowth. Unseen.

The skeleton steps closer to the treeline, searching through the dark. Even with the skeleton's unnatural sight, the pile-of-bones doesn't see him.

Dusk waits until the trio and dog are inside before he moves further into the trees. Tonight is not the night, but it's hardly concerning. Dusk has nothing but time.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
